


Buoyancy

by TheBrideOfBronn (SilkCut)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, PASSIVE AGRESSIVE SADOMASOCHISTIC CYCLE OF SCREW-UPS AND HURT FEELINGS, XMFC AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkCut/pseuds/TheBrideOfBronn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a night like any other, a telepath by the name of Charles Xavier crossed paths with Holocaust survivor Erik Lehnsherr who has the uncanny ability to control metal--and their connection was as instant as the pull of gravity. Undeniable and often disconcerting, it made both men even wonder some days if they were made for each other. They will soon learn that although it was love at first instinct that brought them together, other unmitigated forces will test their fated and doomed partnership, and ultimately prove that perhaps they are better off being divided and united; most especially when they are caught fighting opposing ideals and the women in between they have taken turns hurting for the sake of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cave In

**Author's Note:**

> This story is misleadingly fluffy, sweet and sentimental at first but then gets increasingly abusive and hurtful. If you're into that kind of thing, then please proceed, knowing you have been sufficiently warned.

> **CAVE IN**
> 
> To collapse; subside;
> 
> To yield completely, especially under pressure
> 
>  

 

***

 

_For Charles Xavier, people’s minds are books filled with chapters and tales just waiting to be relished, and he enjoyed perusing through almost all of them. Some appeared in his consciousness like flash cards being clumsily flipped while others played like worn-out film reels stretching from miles on miles. All were in constant motion and change, brimming with possibilities._

_Charles admits that it’s a tad voyeuristic, to enjoy such an invasive hobby, but people have worlds within them that come with a baggage of untapped potentials, and he naturally felt obliged to explore the territories._

_Oh, Charles wanted to know it all, too deeply and to his own detriment._

_This was proven once Erik Lehnsherr came into the picture._

_His mind was a book so overwhelmingly indecipherable that Charles felt the need to snap it shut as soon as the connection between them was made._

_Its pages had sharp edges that it wounded the telepath as he struggled to probe deeper. It almost felt like barbed wires had wrapped themselves around him once he began reading and, for the first time in a long time, he felt afraid of what another person’s mind can do to his own._

 

***

 

Sometimes, though not often, Erik would look at Charles one moment, and his mind would unravel unknowingly the next. The telepath would happen to pick it up by accident. During such times, Charles would simply brush out the tendrils, smoothening down the chaos to a more readable state.

Erik would then call him out of it with a stern, “Charles, don’t”, yet there was amusement in his eyes and a slight curve in his lips that reassured Charles that he wasn’t crossing a line.

“Force of habit, my friend,” Charles would explain.

“I know,” Erik’s response was quick though not unkind. “That one’s on me. I slipped. I should have better control next time.”

With a tender touch on his arm, Charles tried to apologize. “Don’t strain yourself, okay? I promised you once that I will not read your mind.”

“Unless I want you to, right?” Erik’s question sounded like a challenge.  He didn’t look at Charles’ hand that’s still on his arm and the telepath didn’t feel like withdrawing it either. Everything between them has been a test of will lately, and it’s getting ridiculous. Charles would just shake his head at this, more frustrated than he lets on. _He still doesn’t trust me._

They sat next to each other in the main balcony of the mansion, sipping wine from paper cups as the night continued to deepen around them. This wasn’t the first time they found themselves unable to part ways after a long-winding set of chess games. Sleep hasn’t been easy for either of them lately, not with the war looming nearer upon each day. Nothing felt safe, not when people have become either pawns or casualties, but hopefully not the promising young mutants whom they have taken under their tutelage. The days may have become less real with the threat of warfare; save perhaps these quiet moments shared between them. It was hard to believe that they’ve only known each other for a month or so, yet Charles had enjoyed Erik’s company so much that it was almost impossible to imagine life before it.

As if to memorialize that insight, Charles turned to Erik then, and was surprised to see that his friend had been looking at him for quite some time now, and that was when Erik… _slipped_ and opened up his mind.

Charles willingly read the contents with a calm resignation.

Erik used to intentionally put spikes on his mind whenever Charles would attempt to read even just a sliver of contemplation. But this time, he had given up any kind of resistance. The telepath trudged the pathway without difficulty, and the soft trail of Erik’s singular thought was spelled out clearly before him. It simply said: _I’m going to miss this._

Charles tried not to smile so not to give an indication that he heard.

But there’s more.

_And I will miss you the most…_

Unable to pretend any longer, Charles smiled with the knowledge of that revelation which made Erik sit up more rigidly, renewing his grip on the paper cup filled with wine as if he was afraid he might spill it. He then chastised the telepath with a “Charles, don’t,” and here they are.

_He still doesn’t trust me._

He may not be psychic but Erik finally noticed the displeasure in Charles’ countenance and came up with a response immediately.

“I’m not baiting you to break your vow nor am I questioning your vow in general,” Erik offered. “But I just can’t get used to it, that’s all.”

“Of what, exactly?” Charles asked as he withdrew his hand away from Erik’s arm, trying to make it as inconspicuously as possible.

Erik now turned his entire body to face Charles and steadied his gaze. He took another sip of the wine and didn’t answer for a few seconds. Charles surprised himself by getting impatient about that. “Of what, Erik?”

Sighing, Erik closed his eyes and muttered. “You.”

“Me?” Charles knitted his eyebrows in contrition.

“You’ve been reading people’s minds long enough to know the kind of effect you must have on most,” Erik explained but it still eluded Charles.

Charles turned away slightly and gritted his teeth, but mostly because the night was rather chilly that not even his thick cardigan could keep him at ease. He could feel Erik watching him with that damnable poker face still in place. Charles tried to return the apathetic demeanor before but there was always something off-putting about Erik’s coldness that only makes him want to ignite some kind of fire around him, hoping it will thaw the ice.

“How does that explain your discomfort?” Charles finally looked back at him and couldn’t help but feel as if he is missing something. “I’ve curtailed and lowered my gauge as much as I could every time we’re together. I’ve been managing it…” he trailed off, both embarrassed and offended (and embarrassed for being offended) that his efforts may still be lacking.

“You’re mistaken,” Erik simply countered.

Charles tried not to scoff. “So I was failing you all this time?” He looked away, almost hurt. When he glanced at Erik again, the other man is smirking.

“I’m glad that you seem to find this entire ordeal amusing, Erik.” Charles said, meeting his friend’s gaze, hoping that his abrupt rudeness would let itself be known. He was raised with good manners (Sharon Xavier is dead-set on ensuring that courtesy and tact should be observed at all times; in fact, the woman’s self-control in public settings is commendable, especially when she’s a raging alcoholic in private) and often it’s hard for Charles to express unpleasant things in words because his upbringing just didn’t equip him enough for that (and he learned very early on that Sharon does not like to discuss feelings in general, and Charles is terrified of reading her mind).

Erik was always perceptive, and once it was clear that Charles is getting more annoyed by this exchange, it only made him smirk wider. “Sorry, Charles. I wasn’t making fun of you or anything. You are doing a great job keeping it all together, but I’m sorry to say that telepathy as a mutant power in itself just keeps me wary, that’s all. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

_But that also means that he won’t get used to_ **me**.

Still, at least Charles can understand that. Raven still guards herself around him. Everyone who might learn about his type of mutation will always do so. It could get very lonely for him, even if he has the ability to go inside other people’s heads.  Charles sipped his wine and said nothing for a while. _He couldn’t get used to me and yet he claims that he’ll miss me—_

Charles paused. He looked away, overcome by a puzzling sadness. _Does he intend to leave? Or…does he believe I’m going to leave him?_

He did not dare to voice out that concern because he didn’t want to believe it. And yet, when Charles looked across Erik, he was tempted to memorize every little detail of his friend in case it was true.

For his part, Erik grabbed the half-full bottle of wine between them and took a swig. Charles openly stared at him now, bewildered by the ungainly gesture that was somewhat out-of-character.

But then Erik offered the bottle to Charles and the telepath suddenly wasn’t sure anymore what he must do—or at least what Erik wanted him to do. It only became clear when Erik moved the bottle a little closer, almost under Charles’ lips, and Charles felt himself color in indignation and the awkwardness of it all. He also started becoming aware of the proximity between them (a closeness that he had always been okay with and has never interpreted in any other way but a result of their growing camaraderie), and the uncomfortable sensation at the pit of his stomach that was something Charles wasn’t supposed to enjoy but did anyway. He liked Erik, practically _adored_ him even, but this situation was… _intimate_ in a way he didn’t think he should indulge in. Not that becoming intimate with Erik ever bothered him.

What’s more intimate than being inside someone’s head at the time when they were about to give it all up, drown and die? What’s more intimate than rescuing them from that darkness and promising to hold them close from then on? That was how their first meeting went. Charles reached out to Erik and showed him that he didn’t have to be alone. He showed him that—

Charles stopped himself from unearthing that powerful memory, afraid of projecting the feelings he had attached it with through the use of his telepathy. Still, he eagerly searched Erik’s face and wondered if he was thinking about that moment too—which would only make it worse if he was.

Embarrassingly enough, it was love at first instinct that brought Charles to Erik. He never told Erik (that he labelled it as _love at first instinct_ ), for the reason that it was corny and an awkward thing to say to your male friend under any circumstances, and expect to still come out from it unscathed.

Erik still held the bottle, waiting for Charles’ response, and it occurred to Charles that he is now facing a delicate situation, as if they were once again playing chess, and Charles now has to make a crucial move, only that it’s also for Erik’s sake and not just his own.

***

 

_It first touched his consciousness like silk draping across the steel cage that was Erik Lenhsherr’s mind. It was so gentle that it barely scraped him at all, yet its echo doubtlessly caressed the hinges as if it knew just the right amount of pressure to make them stop from jangling in madness._

 

***

 

Just when Erik was about to withdraw the bottle and probably give a curt apology for offering Charles to do something that an English gentleman of his good nature won’t ever do, Charles is actually holding the bottle now and taking a sip. The weird thing about it was not that he actually conceded and drank from the same bottle that Erik’s own mouth just touched minutes ago. It was the fact that he and Erik are now clutching the bottle together, with Charles’ fingers splayed on top of his. It’s also not weird _at all_ that they’re looking right at each other while this is happening and even right after when Charles finished drinking.

He didn’t know what it was that prompted it, but Erik made the mistake of glancing at Charles’ lips which were freshly wet from the wine.

It’s most definitely weird to be mesmerized by another man’s mouth like this and Erik had to remind himself not to think loudly or to think at all, not when he’s sitting next to a telepath who would instinctively catch stray thoughts here and then. To his credit, Charles simply moved away and turned his face to wipe his lips with the back of his hand.

“I haven’t done that before,” he confessed.

“Drink from the bottle?” Erik asked.

Charles nodded and then smiled. “It was quite liberating.”

Erik narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t believe you. Raven once shared a story of you spending plenty of your nights in bars, picking up women and chugging down beer using unusually shaped laboratory instruments.”

Charles chuckled freely now, fully aware that they are still holding the bottle tightly between them—that their hands remained clasped in place (and that a huge part of him doesn’t want to let go—and he doesn’t know why).

“That may be so, but I just don’t see the point of drinking straight from  a boring, old bottle when we have—” he looked down at the shabby paper cups (Sean and Alex keep breaking things around the mansion, and their latest damage was the cupboard filled with the expensive wine glasses). Charles knew it was ridiculous so he didn’t even bother finishing the sentence. But still, it made him _giggle_ , and Erik was obviously trying to suppress a smile from spreading across his lips. To do so, he decided to focus on the conversation.

“Then why did you?” came Erik’s interrogation.

“Did what?”

“You just drank from the bottle now. Why?”

Their hands are still holding the bottle together. Erik’s fingers were steady, his grip unyielding. Meanwhile, Charles’s fingers have begun to slip a little, rubbing themselves unintentionally across Erik’s every now and then as they talked. Charles replied to the question as he forced himself not to grin. “Because you were practically forcing me to do it, my friend.”

Erik raised an eyebrow to that. He could feel Charles’ fingers brushing across his own every now and then, but didn’t mind the contact. “I’m not the telepath here. I couldn’t make you do something you don’t want.”

“Well, I wanted to do it,” Charles countered. “Happy?”

Before Erik could comment sarcastically at that, Charles chose to move the bottle toward Erik’s face, daring him to take another swig. The expression on his friend’s face was a mixture of awe, annoyance and begrudging acceptance. Lifting the bottle closer as well as pulling Charles along with it, Erik covered the top with his mouth and gulped down.

Charles was grinning widely now and was about to say something in jest when it was Erik’s turn to push the bottle in his direction. Charles ended up drinking and chuckling all at once, which caused him to choke a little and for some of the wine to drip from his chin. That was when he ducked down in embarrassment, and quickly wiped away the mess with the sleeve of his cardigan, and Erik can’t help but laugh at that. Still, neither of them let the bottle go the entire time and when Charles finally sat up straight again, Erik was already pulling him and the bottle for his share of the sip.

Charles felt compelled to move his chair closer to his friend’s, acutely sensitive that while the alcohol has managed to dull his concept of personal space it has also enhance his overall feeling of _giddiness_ for the occasion. Erik, being Erik, looked just about the same with his stoic facial expressions, but his skin was flushed under the artificial lighting of the balcony, and he was looking at Charles with a gleeful glint in his eyes, which clearly reflected that he was not as unaffected as he hoped to project. They were both glowing and radiating heat, all thanks to the wine and this unmistakable electricity of flirtation going back and forth between them.

And they were flirting; Charles should openly admit that to himself by now. He hasn’t flirted with a man before (nor does he ever have any future plans to) but Erik is different. Understandably so, because he has accepted a long time ago that Erik is and will always be painfully and beautifully the _exception_ to _everything_. Such admittance was almost as intoxicating as the wine they are sharing together, and Charles allowed himself to drown in it.

_Just like the first time when we met, darling_ , he whispered into Erik’s mind. _Do you remember? How I held you? Kept you safe? Well, at least I tried to. Because I wanted to. You have no idea—all I wanted…what I still wanted—_

Erik was listening now with his breath caught in his throat, not daring to interrupt the telepathic connection unfolding between them.

_—was for you to let me in. So let me in, you savage, magnificent and troubled…_ Charles was closing his eyes and looked like he was about to sleep.

“Charles,” Erik spoke up, forcing Charles to stay awake by shaking the bottle that they still held protectively between them.

“Oh, sorry,” Charles blinked and smiled at Erik. “What was I saying?”

“You called me ‘darling’ again.” Erik commented, hoping to make light of the conversation. He wondered if he should let go of the bottle now…

“Hmmm,” Charles pursed his lips together and closed his eyes again, looking as if he was in a haze of pleasure as he huddled closer to Erik. With another blissful sigh, he rested his head on Erik’s shoulder.

“Charles,” Erik tried again but there was no answer.

 

***

 

_Charles had been afraid when he encountered Erik for the first time, yes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to disconnect. While the minutes ticked away, Charles dove into the dark waters without a moment’s hesitation._

_Reaching, daring to hope that it’s not too late._

_He reeled the man drowning before him in a tight embrace, a man terribly aching in a way that Charles had never felt before. He steadied himself as he held onto Erik and realized in that horrible moment that this man needed him—no, he_ **wanted** _Erik to need_ **him** _._

_But it gets worse. As soon as he pulled Erik out of the depths of the ocean and into safety, Charles also realized that he wanted to_ **love** _him._

_Love him? But how? He doesn’t even know him yet._

_Oh, but he does, doesn’t he? He knew everything from the moment their minds touched and lingered—every scar, every wound that hasn’t scabbed; everything unique and indistinguishable—everything_ **Erik** _._

_And he wanted to know_ **more** _._


	2. Dare

 

> **DARE**
> 
> To challenge (someone) to do something requiring boldness;
> 
> to be courageous or bold enough to do or try something

 

_***_

 

_“You need to let go,” it whispered, absolute and resonant in pitch and sincerity. The sound filled him everywhere at once. “I know what this means to you, but you’re going to die. Please, Erik, calm your mind.”_

_Somehow Erik felt that it wasn’t just talking about the fact that they were floating underwater and that he needs to completely loosen his magnetic grip on the submarine where his greatest foe was escaping in. Erik didn’t and couldn’t do it. The strong currents of his rage vibrated at the tips of his fingers, begging for relief._

_But then he felt the voice soothing everything that was creased and crooked inside him for the first time in a long time and he suddenly found himself lacking in strength to hold on. With a whimper, he let it all go, and that was when he was pulled up to the surface of the ocean by protective arms that felt far too familiar to belong to a stranger._

_Erik disengaged himself and turned around to meet the face of this untimely intrusion of a man. “What the hell did you just do to me?” he shouted, angry and terrified in ways he could not understand. “Who are you?”_

_The man across him looked to be about the same age as he, with shockingly blue eyes that are hard to look into or away from._

 

***

 

Getting frustrated now, Erik shook the bottle again but he did so violently, even though it wasn’t really what he intended to do. Wine poured out and dampened a portion of their clothes and that was when Charles stirred awake at last. Realizing what just happened, he merely let out another chuckle and looked at Erik. The look of panic and apprehension from his friend’s reaction was unbearably _cute_ , and Charles savored it.

“Oh, you beautiful idiot, look at the mess you made!”

“Shut up, Charles.”

“Which is it that peeved you? Being called an idiot? Or being called beautiful?” Charles teased as he gripped Erik’s hand on the bottle forcibly.

“What do you think?” Erik shot a glare at him. “Or maybe I’m just tired of your coy bullshit and want to punish you for your idiocy so here’s the wine!” He moved his hand from the bottle so that he was the one who was holding Charles in place. This time he poured wine on Charles’ trousers, right in his left thigh. That was when Charles’ expression darkened. Erik had seen that look once but he didn’t think he would ever be in the receiving end of it.

He knew Charles was greatly offended but because of the heaviness of the wine in his head, he couldn’t register the appropriate response and ended up thinking about something so unforgivably random at the moment as he stared back into Charles’ eyes and found his gaze falling back to his lips like moments ago. A stray thought took shape and he was powerless to stop it now: _Why do I want to kiss him right now?_

Charles caught it, of course. Stray thoughts are a fair game to a telepath, especially when he’s half-drunk and in a less congenial mood. The moment he accessed that information, his expression changed into something that’s…unknowable, at least in Erik’s perspective.

Cautiously, Erik loosened his grip on Charles’ hand and on the bottle but not until he managed to place it down on the small table between them. Charles was still staring at him—staring at him with that sharp look that Erik has never seen him have on his face before.

As soon as Erik withdrew his hand, Charles clutched it back. This time there was no bottle that would serve as a barricade to keep whatever that’s transpiring between them at bay and in a safe distance. This time there was only clarity and it cuts through both their senses in an instant.

Erik tried to speak up but Charles melded their minds together again and the intense yet familiar touch of their shared consciousness has prevented him from saying anything, at least for the time being.

The moment their minds are in one place, Charles’ expression finally softened. He let Erik’s hand go but not the grip on his mind.

It doesn’t hurt though, having Charles swimming dangerously close to the areas that Erik himself would rather keep hidden away forever. In fact, Erik found that having Charles this close to him in a union of mind and spirit was not as difficult as he originally believed. It was so organic, so essentially straightforward, like putting on your favorite shoes; and as uncomplicated as breathing itself. And it was alarming because of that.

“I’m sorry, Erik,” Charles spoke up first. Erik doesn’t know what he was apologizing for. He was the one who started it all, daring Charles to drink from the bottle then spilling some of the wine in his clothes just to spite him.

“Listen to me, my friend,” Charles spoke again. “I care for you very deeply, and I don’t want to be just another scar.”

Erik opened his mouth, knowing there is something that needs to be said for his part, but couldn’t figure out what it was.

Charles looked sheepish now all of a sudden as he asked. “Do you really want to, though?” He could barely look into Erik’s eyes now.

Erik realized he was asking about that foolish stray thought.

“Charles, I was just being…stupid.”

“It’s not stupid at all,” Charles replied. “I found myself thinking about it now, and I must admit that the idea is quite…inviting, to say the least.”

_Inviting?_

“No, it’s not.” Erik countered.

Charles still couldn’t look at him but he kept attempting to (like some shy school-girl with a crush) and that made something inside Erik’s stomach flip. It was a disconcerting feeling, and Erik was suddenly looking down in shame on behalf of Charles as well.

“Should we do it?” Charles asked once more (and it sounded like he might even be _offering_ it, god forbid) and Erik wished he could be anywhere as long as it’s away from the heavy inquisition of this discussion that’s being forced upon them, all because he thought about something he had never thought about another man, let alone a close friend. He wasn’t even sure he enjoyed kissing women when he engaged with them out of sheer lust.

Lust. Is that what he’s feeling right now? For Charles?

With Charles, it’s always different, always something more complex yet just as surprisingly simple as well.

Annoyed by this conversation and feeling particularly defensive, Erik answered. “Why, Charles? Is that an offer? Is that a dare?”

He regretted saying those things immediately.

Charles just looked at him, hardly blinking.

And then: “Yes.”

Erik almost choked the air as he gasped out. “ _What?_ ”

Charles held his gaze with a confidence that could almost puncture through. “I dare you, Erik,” he said.

Erik tried to sort through the tangled mess of his thoughts right now, wondering if Charles is reading them along with him. And maybe he should. Erik doesn’t want to have sex with Charles yet he also wanted him close; close in a way no one in his life has ever been, not after Shaw, not after his mother.

His desire for Charles had confused him, especially now that he has to be honest about its existence. He wanted Charles beyond physical gratification, and if not that then what else could it be? When the water almost filled his lungs back when he was drowning in the ocean and Charles came upon him, overpowering him with his compassion and determination to save him from imminent death—Erik realized later on that he needed to feel that way again—cherished and deserving of someone’s kindness.  He craved it.

Now Charles sat across him, offering himself to be claimed and Erik couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure he knew how to, and what he would actually do if he did possess Charles. _Possess Charles,_ he caught himself thinking it, testing the gravity of that phrase, trying to place more meaning to it than just an idea.

He watched as Charles read his thoughts and how relieved he was that the telepath wasn’t repulsed by them. He also seemed to edge closer, as if to bait for Erik to do the same and seal the final distance between them.

“Be careful of what you wish for, Charles,” he managed to reply after some time. His hand reached for the telepath’s and Charles clutched back.

“Let’s just try it,” Charles said. “No harm in trying.”

“Guess we can just blame the wine,” Erik added.

“Oh, yes,” Charles agreed. “That always seems to work for a lot of people.” He tried not to think about his mother Sharon right now. He was still mentally linked with Erik, and he might catch his own stray thought.

Luckily, Erik seems distracted, gazing at his lips again right now which Charles found not only flattering but thrilling. He wondered what kissing Erik would feel like, and in the back of his mind, Charles knew he really wanted to know and experience for himself. He wanted to know if it’s possible to get even closer than they’ve already been. What is a kiss if not an extension of the strong feelings shared by two people? The connection he had with Erik was insanely real that it’s often distracting on a daily basis; so real that even a man of scientific inclinations like Charles might even dare to believe that perhaps he and Erik are made for each other.

 Charles allowed himself to smile. _Love at first instinct_.

“What was that?” Erik heard Charles in his mind but wasn’t sure what to make of it. “What did you say?”

There’s no point in hiding now. “I said‘love at first instinct,’” Charles repeated. It felt good to say that aloud and to share it with Erik.

Strangely enough, Erik knew it was a reference to what they have. Hearing that spoken from Charles’ lips gave him goose bumps all over his body.

Erik couldn’t look at Charles anymore. It was just all too much.

_Does Charles love me then?_ He asked himself and then snapped his head back at the telepath’s direction, knowing that Charles had just read that.

There was a flicker of momentary trepidation in Charles’ face when he plucked out that question from the surface of their shared mental link. Erik didn’t need to know the answer (maybe he’s even scared to hear it). It was just a careless speculation, nothing meaningful—which is why it was so shocking that Charles was more than able to provide an answer to that.

“Yes,” Charles was only murmuring now. His cheeks were flushed, both because of the wine and the words being spoken. “Erik, I love you…”

He shifted in his seat and looked down at the bottle of wine on the table. The pause was brief but the actual silence felt heavy in the air. Finally, Charles looked up to hold Erik’s gaze as he continued with a louder voice.

 “I don’t think I have ever loved anyone with such a strong awareness of the emotion itself. I could feel it every day in every part of my being, even when only in passing, like when I’m asleep, but most especially when I’m near you like this and able to travel inside your mind so heavy with grief and pain.” He closed his eyes, pausing once more, and Erik could now hear his heart beating in his ears as his chest felt like it was going to burst.

_All I can think about is how much I wanted to love them all away, Erik, everything that has ever wounded and tore you apart…_ Charles whispered in their shared minds. He then opened his eyes and offered a sheepish smile.

That was… frighteningly eloquent. Erik could only stare at his friend. His hands have closed into fists while he listened, his knuckles white.

“Do you understand?” Charles took his hand again (and Erik wanted to coil away but the cool touch of the telepath’s hand felt all kinds of wonderful, and a selfish part of him wished Charles will never again hold anybody’s hand but his alone). He gave it a squeeze, releasing the pressure from his closed fists earlier. “I won’t lie about something as important as this moment,” Charles was saying. He looked deeper into his friend’s soul. “Erik?”

“Okay,” was all the response Erik could muster.

“Okay?”

“Yes, Charles. Thank you.” Erik felt so, so stupid.

Charles looked a bit disappointed now, and Erik can’t blame him. What he just said was anticlimactic. Charles deserved better.

So Erik stood up. Charles followed suit in silence, the clarity of trust etched in his features as he looked at Erik, waiting for what happens next.

With his other hand, Erik scooped the bottle and took another swig, long and meditative as he kept his gaze fixed on Charles the entire time. After he finished, he offered the bottle to Charles who took it and did the same. They stood there for a minute or two with Charles clutching the bottle while holding Erik’s hand with the other. Words are words, Erik understood. He may not have Charles’ skill of weaving together the right words at the most opportune moment, but Erik had always considered himself a man of action.

So Erik moved forward now in a measured pace, and leaned down to capture Charles’ now parted lips into a quick, soft kiss. He withdrew to appreciate the effect of that contact on the telepath’s face. Charles’ cheeks were now almost the same shameful shade as those exquisite lips. With eyes still locked on one another, Erik pulled his hand away so he could cup Charles’ face with both hands as he fit their mouths together in one decisive swoop.

Charles closed his eyes, giving all of himself and, forgetting his grip on the bottle, dropped it, its crash now just a distant echo. They stepped on the broken shards that crunched under their feet as they sealed the distance.

 Both of them are beyond caring now, driven with a growing need and purpose to truly belong to one another in this precise moment. Charles held onto him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and leaning all his weight against him. Erik kissed Charles like there was never going to be a next time.

Once their tongues slid past each other, caught in a timid dance as they took turns leading, Erik began to feel a certain vibration thrumming steadily at the base of his skull—a rhythm that engulfed all his senses—and he realized that it was Charles fully melding their minds for yet another plunge.

 Erik ran his fingers through the telepath’s hair and dared him to deepen the mental connection. They were both more than ready to drown and die in the taste and realness of each other.

 

***

 

_As they floated together at sea, unable to look away, Charles felt so exposed, shaking not only because of the cold but also because he was happy._

I found you _, he thought triumphantly._ And I won’t lose you again.

_But Erik still lived inside a steel cage and he doesn’t want to come out just yet. He kept the distance between them physically while Charles had kept their minds close, which he could feel was something Erik resisted._

_He regarded Charles with distrust and dread as he asked. “You were in my head. How did you do that?”_

_“Like yours, I have my tricks,” Charles explained. “I’m Charles Xavier. And I’m a mutant just like you.”_

_Something discernibly pained passed through Erik’s features. Charles watched it unfold, hoping he could say something to appease it._

_“I thought I was alone,” Erik fearfully claimed, and saying it out loud with Charles close by had shattered something between them._

_But then Charles spoke up at last and everything was made whole again. “You’re not alone,” was what he said. Erik just stared, dumbstruck._

_With greater caution, Charles swam closer and slipped into the other man’s mind as if he was always meant to belong there._

_“Erik,” he repeated with more conviction. “You’re not alone.”_

_He said it just like that, as if love at first instinct had been enough._

_Both will realize later on that—ultimately—it wasn’t._

_But in that moment, shrouded in blissful ignorance, Charles felt that it was enough and Erik almost believed it too, and dared himself to hope._


	3. Resolve

>   **RESOLVE**
> 
> Firmness of purpose

***

 

It was Erik who pulled away first. He placed both hands around Charles’ elbows and pushed him off gently. Charles easily let him go though he sighed as if he wished he didn’t have to. Erik wasn’t sure he wanted to stop either. It was only when they were standing apart that he realized he was shaking, chilled to the bone, in spite of the warmth of the wine that still clings at the back of his throat, and the welcome heat of the other man’s mouth against his earlier. That actually happened. Just now. It wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. He brought his eyes upon Charles’ face and the telepath simply looked back at him with a questioning gaze and with his lips still slightly parted.  

Erik wanted to feel the texture of those lips again; to savor and sustain the passion that was awakened by no other than his most trusted friend, but he resisted, more frightened and confused than he had ever been, to act on it. He just lowered his hands and clenched them into fists. _Charles_ , he thought grimly, _you were in my head again_. _Now I don’t want to accuse you of tampering with my thoughts because I know you would never do that to me. But could you have projected? Is that possible?_

“Is that what you think happened?” Charles replied aloud. “Are you asking if I somehow unintentionally influenced your actions?”

“It is possible, isn’t it?” Erik sounded too hopeful which he can see made Charles flinch, probably because it does sound accusatory.

Charles just looked at him for a while before he answered. “I didn’t expect you to regret this within seconds. I honestly thought we both wanted this…” he trailed off as he rubbed a hand on his forehead as a gesture of exhaustion as well as impatience. “After all, you were the one who thought about it. But I suppose my own fault is that I didn’t think to discourage it.”

“Why didn’t you?” Erik had to know somehow.

“I don’t know, Erik,” Charles replied as he combed his fingers through his hair, almost nervously. “We said we could just blame the alcohol but we both know that’s not a believable excuse.” He buried both hands inside the pockets of his trousers now. “I would say that we got carried away but I’m afraid that claiming so would seem as if we were belittling the impact of what just happened. And I’m sorry, Erik,” he stared deeply into his eyes, “but I meant every word that I said,” he paused. “I do love you, my friend.”

Erik allowed the term to hover in the air for a moment before he interjected with a resoluteness in his voice that surprised them both.

“What if I wanted to be more?” Erik, once again, felt so, so, _so_ stupid.

But Charles was smiling. “We have always been more, Erik.”

The sentiment and trueness of that statement shouldn’t have made his stomach flip but it did. Erik cleared his throat. “What does that…entail then?”

Charles shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but I would surely like for us to kiss again, if you don’t mind.” He was jesting, smiling in that coy way he does when he’s trying to be charming.

Erik didn’t mean to sound flustered all of a sudden when he responded. “Really, Charles? Doesn’t this feel strange to you, kissing me—a man?”

That should be worrisome but Charles doesn’t look like he minded. He just cocked his head to the side. “If it was any other man, it would be strange, if not downright…unacceptable.” He then chuckled. “I have never imagined myself becoming amorous with my own gender, if that’s what you’re trying to ask me. That said,” he took a step forward and Erik braced himself as he listened to what Charles said next. “You are important to me, Erik. If this is what you want, I’m more than happy and willing to provide.”

 “Dammit,” Erik shook his head in disbelief as he put his palm in front of his face, exhaling into it. He waited for several seconds to gather himself before he was able to look at Charles again without feeling foolish. “You do mean that, don’t you? That if I ask it of you, you’re just going to give it. How could you be so generous all the time, Charles? Honestly, it’s incredibly admirable and grating at the same time.”

“Not all the time,” Charles countered. “And certainly not when it comes to this sort of thing. I don’t go around offering to kiss men, Erik. Just you.”

Erik opened his mouth to reply but Charles added. “And only you.”

“But…” Erik felt dizzy. Could be the wine, could be due to Charles and the unbelievable mixture of casualness and intensity in his demeanor at this moment. In any case, Erik had to ask again. “Why?”

“Oh, my friend,” Charles smiled. “Don’t you know already? Do you not feel it? We seem to always find our way together somehow. This is just another road we choose to travel as allies, partners, best of friends…” he paused as if he wants Erik to announce the next phrase for both of their sakes.

“Oh,” was all that Erik could say. _Is he really serious about this?_

_Yes, I am. I have never felt this way…about anyone. And I don’t think I ever will again,_ Charles was speaking through their shared minds once more.

“There’s still time,” Erik muttered. “So many mutants to meet…”

“Don’t do that,” It was Charles’ turn to frown. “Don’t diminish what we have found in each other, and dismiss it as replaceable because you know it’s not.” He took both of Erik’s hands and pulled them close to his chest. Erik’s eyes widened and his breath hitched just a little. He felt like if he didn’t get things under control, his thoughts would spill out of him and Charles would read every single one and will make everything more real than it has to be.

“Charles,” he managed to answer. “I’m sorry.”

He looked down at their hands clasped together. “You make it sound so easy and yet I don’t think either of us knows what we want, or if we even need to find out.” He can’t stop looking at their hands. “Charles, we’re drunk. Now I’m not saying it’s simply because of that. There has been a strong sort of…feeling between us that’s been there since the beginning. But what you’re asking…what I hope you’re not asking…” he closed his eyes because he doesn’t feel like saying things out loud anymore so he allowed his thoughts to fill the gaps. _And I’m not saying it’s not what I want. Maybe I do want it. God—Charles, I want you. I think I do, but I don’t know what to do about it._

“Erik,” Charles let his hands go only so he could cup Erik’s face between his palms and look into his eyes again in a way that is able to unravel the tangled mess of their emotions together. “I’m right here if you’ll have me.”

Erik didn’t realize that his hands have clutched either side of Charles’ hips until he crushed their mouths together for the second time. Charles moaned into the kiss which drove Erik instantly crazy. If the telepath were made of metal, Erik would have bent him to his will and probably destroy him.

And then he heard Charles whispering in his mind. _I can assure you that there is no need for that, darling. This alone—having every part of you aligned with me—it’s all the devastation I can take._

“Shut up,” Erik pulled away just to reprimand him but then dove right back in and this time he wouldn’t even let Charles move an inch away. He kissed him with such unexpected fire and passion (especially because it’s Erik— _my god, it’s Erik and he’s not hiding from me anymore_ ), and with a little cruelty that could even bruise. For his part, Charles tried not to make his enjoyment too apparent. He could hear and feel Erik all over him with a heavy intent and though his friend’s aggression was immense, Charles did not fear it.

This is who Erik is—damaged but not beyond repair, angry and desperate but capable of goodness if he only learns to accepts it in his life first—and he was now letting Charles in wholly which meant that he’s also ready to try; ready to hope. And that’s all that Charles ever wanted. He wanted Erik to believe he can be loved and therefore can be saved.

_I love him_ , Charles thought to himself and then shared that with Erik, _I love you, Erik. Never forget this moment. Never forget what we could have._

Charles pulled away, gasping, as he said aloud. “After Cuba, let’s make plans for a future we can both be a part of,” he buried his face on Erik’s shoulder and continued, almost wistfully. “This mansion is too big for just you and me, and the children. I think it could serve not just a haven for other mutants but also become a place of learning.” He looked at Erik again and smiled, overcome with joy. “I want to teach them, Erik, mentor them; show them a brighter path, so that none of them have to be alone again.” He pressed a kiss on Erik’s lips and murmured. “And I want you by my side.”

Realizing that he just blurted out his deepest desires out of nowhere, Charles let out a nervous chuckle, feeling abashed that he would reveal that much when it wasn’t even the right time. But Erik had awakened something in him that he had always kept a secret, all because Charles believed for quite some time that no one else will be worth the trouble of communicating such goals and ambitions with. But here they are, connecting in multiple levels that Charles decided that this should just be another one to add.

Erik’s expression was inscrutable for a moment and his thoughts are still in a frenzy because of the kiss. When he finally calmed his mind and was now able to focus on what Charles just said, he could only reply, “You seem very certain about this. Are you so sure that we’re going to survive Cuba?”

“Realistically, there is still an off-chance that things will go to hell once we get there,” Charles answered truthfully. “But at this moment, sharing this all with you, Erik, I don’t even feel like going—” he stopped when he saw Erik’s face darken. “You misunderstand. Of course, we’ll still go. It’s a duty. But something has become more important to me now, especially that you have opened up yourself to me like this. I have no idea that I was actually waiting for this all along—for you—”Charles kissed Erik again, slightly nibbling on his lower lip as he did. He drew back and added. “And I have made up my mind. And now it’s all on you, Erik. You have a decision to make and I can only hope that it would include me.” He placed a hand on Erik’s cheek, allowing it to linger for a moment before he pulled away.

“Charles,” Erik took a step back. “This is very sudden. We only have three weeks before Cuba, and for you to put this on my plate when there’s not enough space—” he paused but not long enough to give Charles a chance to chime in. “Listen, I can’t give you a straight answer right now. I know you understand that. We never really talked about the future in that kind of context. I meant, something exclusively about…our relationship—which I don’t think we have truly figured out either. But thank you, I appreciate you coming out clean.” He sighed as he placed both hands on Charles’ shoulders.

“I think we need to get some sleep and talk about this when we’re both ready to discuss it further. Can we just take a rain check on this, Charles?”

“Of course!” Charles tried to smile though he can’t deny that he’s a bit disheartened. “It is pretty late after all. And we also need to change—” he was referring to their wine-soaked clothes. “So I guess we just put a pin on this for now. I almost forgot we still have some training tomorrow.”

“We will talk again soon. That’s a promise.” Erik lowered his hands so he could wrap his arms around Charles’ waist as he kissed him one last time. It was so hard to believe he hasn’t done this sooner, not when it was obviously something he needed but was too proud to admit. He didn’t mean just kissing Charles (he still couldn’t believe he’s able to do that, not even while it’s happening right now), but it was mostly about being able to admit to himself that there is now a person in his life that outweighed his anger and pain.

_Thank you, Charles_ , _for everything_ , he thought as he pulled away.

Charles eagerly responded. _Anything and everything for you, my friend._

They stayed there for a few more seconds, watching the emotions flicker and come alive on each other’s faces as they saw, for the first time in their lives, that home is a person and it’s standing right in front of them.


	4. Engulf

> **ENGULF**
> 
> To flow over and enclose

 

***

 

_“You need to challenge yourself more, Erik,” Charles was saying as he directed the other man’s attention towards the satellite dish a thousand yards away from where they stood in one of the mansion’s balconies._

_“I want you to move that so it faces us in this direction.” Charles said._

_“Something that big,” Erik answered. “I need the situation, the anger.”_

_“The anger’s not enough,” Charles countered._

_“Well, it has gotten the job done all this time.”_

_“It has gotten you_ almost _killed all this time.”_

_Erik gave up arguing with Charles a long time ago, so he just raised both hands to conjure his powers at his fingertips, focusing very hard on the obstacle before him. He thought about Sebastian Shaw again, and the first time they met in his office, and his request for Erik to move the coin on the table under the threat of his mother getting shot. With that memory in mind, he failed to concentrate on anything else but the familiar grief overtaking the rest of his senses. Charles was astute enough to provide a lifeline, however, and immediately broke into Erik’s thoughts before they worsened._

_"I believe that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity.”_

_He turned to face Erik then. “May I?” he wiggled his fingers, indicating that he wanted to slip inside Erik’s head again._

_The other man said nothing for a few seconds, dreading the touch of the telepath prodding inside the confines of his mind. But there was something about the way Charles looked at him at this precise moment that made Erik nod his head for permission anyway. With gazes locked on one another, Charles placed his two fingers on his right temple and began the process._

 

***

 

Erik’s awareness of Charles has heightened exponentially after last night, and the very next morning proved to be torture.

The onslaught of desire that came pouring out of him caught him unprepared during breakfast while the table was filled with lively chatter among the mutant kids and Moira. The culprit responsible for this discomfort was seated right across him, wrapped in that _stupid_ green cardigan with that _ugly_ beige sleeve shirt underneath it. Two buttons were open at the collar, revealing the paleness of his neck quite _exquisitely,_ Erik thought.

God. _Dammit_.

Charles just sat there, barely giving an indication he knew that Erik was watching. He regarded the conversation among the children with a patient resignation, responding with a small chuckle here and there. He carried on being oblivious of the other man as he sipped his brewed coffee in infuriating content for the next ten minutes which felt like it lasted for hours in Erik’s account. Afterwards, when Charles finally did meet his gaze from across the table, he offered a smile tinged with a gnawing tenderness that Erik swore it radiated like direct sunlight to the eyes. Instinctively, he bowed his head and focused on spreading marmalade on the piece of bread he has yet to take a bite of. He didn’t think there was anything unusual about that at first until Sean asked if he could borrow the bottle of said condiment which made it sound like Erik has been hoarding it all to himself all this time.

Erik pushed the marmalade bottle towards the redheaded kid and then turned his attention back on the bread which was coated with the thick yellow-orange substance he doesn’t even feeling like putting into his mouth anymore. Disgruntled, Erik decided to sip his coffee instead but it has gone lukewarm by now. Dammit, he’s been at the table for a good fifteen minutes and hasn’t eaten or drank anything? That wasn’t suspicious at all. Idiot.

“Erik,” Charles spoke up at last and Erik had no choice but to acknowledge him. When he did, he also realized that everyone has cleared their plates and are getting ready to watch television in the living room. Only Sean was left behind, taking his time enjoying his slice of bread. He looked, as usual, lost in teenage reverie. It was only when Charles glanced at him with a smile that the boy realized that he should leave now. Sheepishly, Sean pushed himself off the table, taking his plate along with him so he could wash it in the sink. He was still only a few yards away from the two of them and both Charles and Erik waited until he finished and left for good.

Now that they were alone, Erik realized the extent of how much he couldn’t bear being in the same room with the telepath. The heaviness of the atmosphere between them was unlike anything before.

“Erik,” Charles repeated his name, paused and then added. “I understand if you now feel odd about us in light of recent events.”

“Thanks,” Erik replied, knowing he’s already sounding dismissive.

“I’m just as uncomfortable as you are,” Charles offered. “But I like it.” He smiled widely now. “It’s like being submerged under a concoction of dread and elation, don’t you think? And I feel as if I’m constantly intoxicated by it.”

_Ever so eloquent, aren’t you?_ Erik thought, knowing Charles would pick up that stray thought which the telepath presently did.

“My friend,” Charles began. “There’s no reason to be so sulky in the morning,” he glanced across the large window near them. “It’s going to be a lovely day, I can feel it. The kids are even enjoying themselves, their bonds getting stronger each day. Such youth can be quite infectious, don’t you think?” He looked at Erik again, still smiling and waiting for his friend to engage him. Charles was more than aware of how complicated things have been becoming since they agreed on the meaning of the feelings that are growing between them, but some things don’t have to change. They can still have the same conversations, the same connection—only now it’s been amplified—focused—and more definitive than it had ever been.

But he loves Erik anyway—he knew it by instinct and felt it deepening and thickening in every layer of his consciousness—but it comes to no surprise to the telepath that recognizing that singular truth wouldn’t immediately guarantee that certain things about his friend will become easier to reconcile with.  Erik is injured badly. His mind, and the memories contained within it, is fractured, almost hanging by the fringes. The spikes and sharp edges could be hard to navigate around most of the time but Charles loved Erik’s mind more than anything. It was always a great puzzle, a confounding enigma he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life testing and solving. It’s all he ever wanted to do now—touch it, caress it, fill it with hope.

Charles made a promise to himself right there and then: _I’m going to be with him for the rest of my life_. He closed his eyes right now and eased his way into Erik’s head. _There was so much more to say to you last night but the words that capture them have yet to be invented, I’m afraid,_ he whispered.

As soon as Erik heard Charles echoing in his mind, he sat up rigidly but stayed in place, allowing the telepath full access. The passage wasn’t easy for either of them, not when Erik’s first instinct is to still resist, to remain afraid.

It’s still very shocking for Erik to hear someone speaking loud and clear inside his thoughts, but he reassures himself that it’s okay to keep the line of communication open because this wasn’t an invasion. The telepath would just swoop in and fill the spaces in his head, and Erik shouldn’t be afraid of that. It was just Charles the benevolent after all, and all he’s trying to do is stop the chasm from widening and breaking apart. Erik willed himself not to be scared—to trust Charles—to be loved by him. As he closed his eyes right now, Erik could sense Charles folding him inside the arms of their shared telepathic cocoon. While encased safely in a warmth so foreign yet he so desperately wanted to be more intimate with, Erik realized three things.

One, Charles _owns_ him. He knew it’s true because every piece that didn’t use to fit always clicks together in place every time he’s near.

Two, Erik loves him—even if he didn’t know the best way how.

And three, he’s now ready to try.

“Do you want to go for a walk outside?” Erik offered, expectant.

Charles quickly beamed. “Certainly. But you haven’t eaten anything yet. Would you be all right?” He gestured at his untouched plate.

“I can’t really think about food right now.”

“Don’t be an oaf. You need sustenance.” Charles remarked as he stood up and approached Erik. With such elegance characteristically Charles Xavier, he took the fork and knife and sliced the egg on the plate. Erik watched, bewildered and unable to speak, as the other man punctured the fork into that delicate slice of egg and held it close to Erik’s mouth, waiting.

Erik didn’t dare to part his lips.

***

 

_Everything blurred around Erik for a while before it gained focus. He saw candles in front of him, the flames warm and comforting. He felt the touch of a woman’s hand, caressing his cheek. It has been a while since he knew he was home and safe—that he was loved. Erik inhaled every inch of the memory before it dissipated. A tear rolled down his cheek that he was too stunned to wipe away. He looked across Charles and saw the telepath weeping to himself._

_“What did you just do to me?” Erik asked._

_Charles closer to him and rested his elbow on the ledge. “I accessed the brightest corner of your memory system. It was quite beautiful. Thank you.”_

_Erik couldn’t speak so Charles continued talking. “I’m very sorry you had to lose her the way you did. But you had some very good years with your family before the war. You grew up happy and sheltered. They loved you, your parents, and gave you everything a young boy could possibly want and so much more.” He paused, tearing up again. “I’m sorry. Sifting through people’s happy memories like that always affect me this way.”_

_Erik wasn’t sure what occurred to him to ask it, but he did. “Why?”_

_Charles was still looking down. He didn’t give any indication whether he would answer the question or not. Erik suddenly placed his hand under his chin so they could look at each other. What he saw in the telepath’s eyes was heartbreaking. He looked genuinely torn and lonely for the first time since they met. It was a strange sight to behold and so awful to be a part of._

_Unable to verbalize them out loud, Charles decided on speaking through melding their minds together._ **Because I never had any of my own…**

 

***

 

“I used to do this with Raven when we were kids,” Charles explained offhandedly and not at all uncomfortable with the absurdity of his action.

Erik pulled his head slightly away so he could look up at Charles in defiance. “I’m not your sister. And I’m not a kid.”

“It was probably the most favorite thing I’ve ever done for Raven, growing up,” Charles was purposefully ignoring him which should annoy Erik but it just didn’t. “As you can see, she and I haven’t spent that much time together since we moved back here in the mansion, which is only natural, seeing as she has the company of her new friends to keep her spirits up. I’m afraid I’m not needed in that regard anymore…”

Erik can see what he was trying to do. Sighing, he replied. “You’re like a mother hen, you know, able to guilt people into compliance.”

Charles didn’t even care to deny any of it. He only said. “Consider this as payment for pushing the wine bottle repeatedly toward me last night.”

“As if you didn’t want to drink it dry…” Erik trailed off as he opened his mouth to receive the food. He chewed and swallowed it quietly.

The two of them repeated the same process as Charles stood there. Erik inhaled every inch of him, relishing their closeness; the affection flowing naturally back and forth; the tiny smile on Charles’ lips every time Erik would put his mouth on the fork and swallow his food. If it was any other person in the world, such a willing submission would be disgraceful and repugnant on Erik’s part yet somehow it felt like he had done this many times before and it made him feel _terrible_ …in the most _amazing_ sense possible. He was literally being cared for by the only man in the world he trusted the most to do it.

Charles couldn’t believe Erik was letting him feed him which was already an unusual thing for one grown man to do for another, unless one of them is physically incapacitated due to an ailment. He wondered how either of them would react in case Moira or one of the kids walked in on them. Suddenly conscious, Charles decided to put an end to this rather awkward food play. But he still couldn’t resist acting on impulse so he leaned down, pressing a hand at the back of Erik’s chair, and softly pecked his friend’s cheek. He pulled away abruptly as if his lips were on fire.

The gesture left both men embarrassed; Charles could no longer stop grinning from ear to ear as his cheeks felt like they were going to fall off his face any second now, while Erik clenched his hands into fists and unintentionally made the spoon and fork on the plate rattle. The fresh sound of metal scraping against the ceramic surface was eerily reflective of the resonating quality of their mixed feelings of anxiety and arousal.

After a minute, Erik slowly stood up as Charles took a step back to allow him some room to move around. They couldn’t look at each for a while until Erik spoke up again. “So, how about that walk?”

“Yes, of course,” Charles tried so, _so_ hard to stop smiling like a giddy child with a newly unwrapped present. This is getting ridiculous!

With a motion of hand, he added. “After you, my friend.”

They walked side by side, maintaining a pace they’re both comfortable with. The morning was rather chilly and it was the sort of weather that tends to bring Charles back to his least fond memories of childhood. As if to curtail the misplaced sadness from creeping in, he wrapped both arms around himself and rubbed his elbows for warmth. He felt Erik looking at him and waited for his friend to say something but Erik instead moved closer and matched his speed with Charles’ stride, which was actually more meaningful than whatever words could pass between them at this moment.

Erik decided to be the first one to break the five-minute silence. “This is a really massive estate you have here,” he commented. “It could take an entire day to explore everything, and maybe not even then.”

“Three days,” Charles remarked. “I did so once, including that garden and the three cellars below ground.”

“Why would your family need three cellars?”

“Dunno,” Charles answered honestly.

“That doesn’t sound like you.” Erik gave him a smirk. “The Charles Xavier I know likes to figure out secrets.”

“No, I don’t,” Charles didn’t know why he felt defensive all of a sudden.

Erik picked up on it. In an instant, he placed his palm on Charles’ shoulder, slowing down for a few steps. “If you weren’t the way you are, you never would have saved me the first time we met.” _If you weren’t you, Charles—caring, always ready to suffer for others—I wouldn’t be alive._

“Erik…” Charles stopped walking to meet his eyes as soon as he heard the thought. But Erik silenced him with a deep and piercing gaze.

“I owe you a lot,” Erik explained. “Not just because you saved me from drowning but because you gave me a chance to…how did you put it?”

“To be a part of something much bigger than yourself,” Charles finished the phrase for the both of them. “But don’t sell yourself too short, my friend. You decided to stay. That was all on you.”

“Yes, but only because you offered me the choice to,” Erik looked off to a distance and Charles watched the light radiate his features from this angle. It almost made him ache to touch his face but he didn’t dare just yet. Erik looked back at him again and smiled. “No one has ever done that before.”

_No one has ever wanted me._

“Erik, stop it,” Charles placed both hands on his friend’s shoulders this time. “You know that’s not true. Not anymore.”

“Then show me,” Erik risked a step closer. With a surge of pleasure, he watched as Charles’ cheeks flushed. The crimson hue stretched across those dotted stars in his skin ( _so many freckles_ , Erik observed in delight) and he had  never seen anything more divine than that—except maybe for those eyes, deep as the seas he was always meant to drown in from the first moment he caught a glimpse of them. As the closeness grew more tangible—more terrifying—between them, Erik whispered. “I dare you, Charles.”

As soon as that single phrase was spoken, Erik felt something behind his eyes _spark_ up like tiny wires blazing one after another. The prickly sensations overwhelmed him though they weren’t necessarily painful.

“Charles,” Erik didn’t expect his voice to sound hoarse. “Was that you?”

The telepath said nothing. He brushed their lips against each other instead and that wordless confirmation made Erik’s head spin madly. Neither of them deepened the contact of their lips just yet, savoring the lightness and the crackle of electricity streaming back and forth in their melded minds. After a while, Charles applied more pressure as Erik allowed himself to bend. His squeeze on his friend’s shoulders tightened as he readied himself.

And then Charles took the plunge.

They spliced the particles of every barricade that could ever come between them as their mouths searched through the wilderness of their messy, tangled thoughts until they found the nourishment they desired.

Multiple pathways opened up, allowing an outpour of symphonies unheard of to converge in a single meeting point.

And Erik drowned.

 

***

 

Alex Summers was standing only five yards away, watching as the two men he had come to trust and respect in the last month passionately kiss each other without a care in the world. He was stunned, of course, but not because it was his first time to see two men do that. He’s been to prison after all. He understood how that kind of relationship worked and didn’t feel like he was in any position to judge. For the first few minutes, the confusion almost overwhelmed him. He couldn’t figure out why Charles and Erik are apparently lovers (and for how long? Has it always been that way? Alex quickly recalled the first time he met them; tried to pinpoint any clues in their manners toward each other that should have given it away; that Alex should have picked up on). But it’s really none of his business. Alex turned away from the sight and walked back to the mansion.

He continued to contemplate what he saw, however.

As he thought more about it, Alex realized that there was this surprising amount of relief because finding out that those two are intimate answered some of the vibes he noticed every time they were in a room together. Like earlier during breakfast, Erik was surlier than usual, avoiding eye contact with everyone but would sneak glances at Charles, and Charles was just as distracted, pretending to be a part of their group’s conversation while focusing his attention entirely on Erik even if he wasn’t looking at the man. Alex recalled other times too, when he got the impression that the frequent late-night chess games between them must be because they enjoy each other’s company (Alex once overhead them conversing about stuff he couldn’t understand—all that intellectual talk—and decided that they must be very lonely people from the start so being together makes them feel less alone; Alex certainly knows that friendships for mutants are hard to come by).

Alex thought about Hank and Raven now for some reason, and decided that their courtship was out in the open for weeks now, which is only annoying because no one knows who is courting who. Hank doesn’t know what to do with himself or any situation that involves Raven coming on to him. It can get very uncomfortable for everyone when this happens. _Well_ , Alex concluded _, at least Charles and Erik are more subtle about their relationship._

_It doesn’t matter to me. Who cares if they’re fucking?_ Alex thought.  And then, with some sadness, thought some more. _Hasn’t the world been prejudiced enough to those two already? Especially towards Erik? To us?_ Alex didn’t want to contribute more to that cycle of ignorance and hatred. After all, it was Charles Xavier who brought them all together and made Alex believe he could be something more than just a delinquent kid with mutant powers. Charles was patient with him, never gave up on him even when there have been times he lashed out and spoke out of turn.

Charles merely forgave. Charles always understood.

He was kind, sincere…and absurdly _loving_.

Alex can’t help the smile that formed on his lips upon thinking that.

_Can’t blame Erik. I’d probably be into Charles too if I was gay—_

“Shit,” he stopped himself from thinking more about it. Thankfully, he saw Raven and Hank gathered around Sean by the rooftop, probably cheering on ginger boy to practice and perfect his sonar flight. He joined them, squashing the thoughts about Charles and Erik for good.

_Really, Alex. It’s none of your business,_ he told himself.

 

***

 

Happy memories? _Erik asked, still holding Charles’ chin though he was not aware of it anymore, far too absorbed looking into those sad blue eyes._

**I was unwanted. My parents were hardly around. They knew there was something wrong with me and avoided me in any way they can. As a baby, one of the long-time maids told me that my mother would often hear me crying in her head from miles away and it almost drove her crazy. They took me to specialists. They tried to fix me. After a while they just gave up and left me to myself. They went on extended business trips, leaving me all alone in this mansion. Even the servants minimized their contact with me.**

_Erik lowered his hand but kept his eyes firmly in place. Charles was also showing him his own slate of memories while he spoke; an endless reel of sequences of a boy wandering around by himself in the dead of night, picking up a book to read, sipping some tea in the parlor while having conversations with himself, playing chess with an imaginary friend…_

**Raven came into my life and stayed ever since but I suppose we merely kept each other company while we continue to feel alone and restless in our own thoughts and struggles. But at least I had someone to talk to at last, and she had a place to call home. But I never felt like this was home. I never felt I was home anywhere…**

_“Charles, I’m…” Erik was feeling nauseous. The telepath’s sadness was eating him inside. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say._

_“Don’t be, my friend,” Charles shook his head and stepped away a little. “What matters is that you have happy memories inside you still, and you should not hesitate to embrace them every now and then.”_

_“I didn’t know I still had those,” Erik swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked down at the space between them._

_When he looked up again, Charles was smiling at him, his eyes still misty with tears.” There is so much more to you than you know. Not just pain and anger.” He walked closer now, placing both hands on Erik’s cheeks._

_“There’s good too,” he whispered. “I felt it.”_

_Erik nodded and glanced across the satellite dish from a mile away. As soon as Charles let him go, Erik turned around to raise his hands with his fingers relaxed, honing in—focusing. He could feel Charles’ soft presence at the back of his mind, urging him in all tenderness to trust and let go._

_It took only ten to fifteen seconds for the entire satellite dish to face their direction and the two friends laughed together in victory once it was done. Grinning from ear to ear, Erik placed his hands on Charles’ shoulders and pulled him close for an overdue embrace. The telepath felt frail against his more muscular frame but he grasped onto Erik with surprising strength._

_Even as they both pulled away, Charles was still embedded in Erik’s mind, surrounding him with light and warmth like never before. Erik stared into those soulful blue eyes, now perfectly understanding the look of happiness in Charles’ face when he first donned Cerebro._

_The joy of finding out that you’re not alone after all when it was the single and most certain belief in your mind for years is no doubt a saving grace. Erik felt that on the night Charles rescued him from drowning in his quest for vengeance. And Charles felt it a million times over every time he had the Cerebro on, listening to the cries of mutants whom he will make his life’s mission to save one by one from here on out._

 

 


	5. Fray

> **FRAY**
> 
> A raveled space or worn spot

 

 ***

“Will—it—always be this—?” Erik can’t even finish the sentence. He wasn’t even sure he should speak. All he wants to do is to envelope himself further inside Charles’ mind and to taste that gorgeous mouth over and over again. But he tried to verbalize what he feels as much as he could. “— _this_ —you and me—so… _stupefying_ …sort of like, dying and coming back—stronger, more resilient… _ffffuck_ this, I’m babbling on like a moron—”

And Charles was laughing, the sound musical, both out of this world and a part of him. And Erik kissed him again like a ravenous ghoul, burying his fingers into Charles’ hair as if he wanted to steal the sound away from the telepath, to make it his own. Is it possible for this piece of Charles to live on inside him? How about his gifted mind, the one that Erik is grasping onto for dear life with his hands right now; hands which are glaringly, _awfully,_ too small to contain the entire world inside Charles’ head to begin with?

Nonetheless—is Erik allowed to claim it? Pretty please?

Charles didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as he traveled through Erik’s pathways filled with thoughts of possession and wicked desire. Caught drifting in the turbulent waves of the oceanic expanse of their shared consciousness, Erik is reaching out to Charles, but instead of Charles getting him back safely to shore, it was Erik’s will that’s stronger, pulling him into the deep end of the waters instead. The urgency and magnitude of Erik’s longing pulsating everywhere in his mind and soul wasn’t really what scared Charles. It was Charles’ own compliance, the way he’s beginning to lose all control—

—and how much he **wanted** to drown with Erik.

Was he really able to inspire these terrible emotions from Erik so effortlessly? But he’s supposed to be made of steel all the way so why does he melt so easily with every touch of Charles’ mind? Consequentially, Charles himself could feel the iron in his blood boil the more Erik grabs a hold of him and won’t let go. But why? How could their intimacy suffocate them? The healing should not cauterize every inch of their cores like this, but the deeper they unite, the wider the chasm becomes and the faster they’re falling into it.

Everything has a price, they say, and is this theirs to pay?

“My friend,” Charles pulled away now, trembling from where he stood. “Calm your mind. It’s all jangled up in there. I can’t…find my way out of it. _Please_.” He shut his eyes, trying to regain back the focus and control. Just as he was testing whether it was safe enough to pull out from the connection, Charles shocked the both of them when he covered his face with his hands all of a sudden as he stumbled a few steps back. He howled just a bit as he struggled for words. Luckily, he was able to say, “You’re _hurting_ me...”

 “Charles!” Erik willed himself to appease his thoughts. He focused on breathing normally but seeing Charles visibly suffer because of his own doing has made him panic which didn’t help. That new emotion stung Charles too.

“I’m sorry!” Erik decided that he should back away physically. Perhaps, by doing so, the range of Charles’ reach into his mind will also loosen. So Erik ran. His feet moved beneath him though he felt numb all over. He ran like everything depended upon it and perhaps it did. Gradually, he could feel less of Charles in his mind and the emptiness that replaced it was enough to bring Erik down to his knees. He hasn’t felt darkness like this before and all because the soft glow of Charles’ light was nowhere near him. It left him cold.

“Charles!” he wanted to return by his friend’s side but he wouldn’t dare. He shouldn’t have overpowered Charles like that. But how could he have known he could even do that? The last time anyone probed his mind was when one of Shaw’s lackeys, that ice bitch Emma, attacked him by showing him the painful memories of his times at the camps. And he was never able to fight back her control. How stupidly ironic then, that when he actually invited another telepath to make himself feel at home in his head that he would repay that by inflicting him with that much pain?

“Charles…” Erik felt like he was going to cry but forced it away by finally lifting himself from the ground. He was about a mile away from where he and Charles stood together earlier. He couldn’t see him anywhere.

He couldn’t feel him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hoping that Charles feels better enough to listen to his apology. “I fractured you. I don’t know how I did it. It shouldn’t be possible—” _Should it?_ “Charles, answer me! Are you out there?”

The silence is harsh, it cuts through bone.

“CHARLES!”

And then, miraculously, Charles responded.

The voice was not inside his head. It sounded like it was hovering around him instead. Erik listened.

“My friend, there is more to your powers than we thought.” That was Charles, all right. Erik breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. He was about to answer back but then Charles kept talking. “Your mind has magnetic waves. I should have recognized it the moment we first touched minds back when I first met you. But I suppose they lay dormant for years until Shaw’s telepath lady friend probed into your head forcefully that night.”

Erik walked towards the direction of the voice, back to Charles. “What do you mean by magnetic waves?”

“A rather unusual form of mind power,” Charles explained. “Not quite telepathy though, but when harnessed and channeled well, it could double your control not just in any metallic substance but also…” he trailed off. Erik waited as he walked, searching for Charles.

“…I’m not sure what else it can do to be exact because I’ve only theorized it before. I’ve never met a mutant who possessed it.” Charles finally appeared in front of him out of nowhere and he looked like he was back to normal. He was slightly pale though. Erik didn’t care about their conversation anymore. All he wanted to do is to beg Charles for forgiveness but he fought the urge to wrap his arms around him, knowing any contact now might destroy both of them. Charles could see the agony in his face so he said. “It’s okay, Erik. I was just taken aback, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

“Yes,” Erik gritted his teeth. “It won’t.”

Charles frowned. “Not like that, Erik.” He walked closer but Erik instinctively took a few steps back, giving him a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. The sight was enough to break Charles’ heart. “Listen to me,” he said in a firmer voice. “You can’t be afraid of this power, Erik. It’s still your gift.”

“Yes, it is and so it’s up to me to suppress it.”

“No, please,” Charles quickened his steps and caught Erik’s arm before he could turn away and walk off. “Don’t hide it, not from me.”

“But, Charles, I’ve hurt you!” Erik withdrew his arm angrily from Charles’ clutch. “I could have caused some permanent damage! And what then? Don’t you understand? I could have killed you!” Hearing himself say it aloud brought a fresh surge of pain that he could feel is clawing at the center of his chest where his heart is. Despondent, he looked away from Charles.

Erik closed his eyes and compressed his fingers into fists as soon as he began to feel the tremor of every metal within range. He immediately tried to calm himself down before his rage could wield enough power to tear down every piece of fucking metal he could get his control over.

He warned accusingly. “Don’t try to read my mind, Charles!”

_No, don’t. Not this again._ Charles was panicking. He felt his eyes watering as he watched Erik in desperation. He didn’t have to read his friend’s mind to know that Erik was building up new defenses to close himself in.

“ERIK, LISTEN!” Charles screamed at him now. He grabbed Erik by his shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Don’t you ever, EVER, shut me out! You think you could kill me with those new powers of yours? Oh, trust me, what would kill me now is if you push me away when we are finally closer than I ever thought we would ever be! Don’t take that way from me, please…oh, Erik, I—” he could feel his heart on his throat as he struggled to get the next words out. “I LOVE YOU, you beautiful idiot! Get that into that thick skull of yours and never forget that I am YOURS!”

“Charles—”

“I am yours,” Charles repeated as his arms wrapped into a stubborn knot behind Erik. “Mind, body and spirit—and that’s the way I want it.”

“But—”

“Shut up,” Charles interjected, his voice trembling as his tears soaked Erik’s shoulder. “Shut that stupid mouth and stop running away from me. I’ll find you every time, my Erik,” he whispered. “And I’ll never let you drown.”

Erik was silent for a few minutes as he listened to their hearts beat together in perfect synchrony. His arms found their way around Charles after a while. “I’m sorry,” he whispered back at last. “I know that I have you now, Charles, and that’s why I was afraid I could lose you.”

Charles slowly pulled away so he could look at Erik’s face. The glistening tears gave his eyes a haunting shade of blue. “Nothing will ever make me leave you. Not even these powers you have yet to control. And I will help you figure out how to use them, Erik. We’ll learn it, side by side, as I hope we should because it’s officially one of my long-term goals to love you for a lifetime, don’t you know?” He smiled wider as he watched Erik’s face finally brighten up when he heard that. Charles went on speaking as he caressed Erik’s hair with his fingers. “Together, Erik. That’s what we will always be.”

He pressed his lips on Erik’s left cheek and then withdrew to fill him with more promises. “We are together and we can conquer anything. We will do things together. We will make choices together. We will stand by together. Now and forevermore, if it ever comes to that.”

“Charles…” Erik had no words to say. He doesn’t have his friend’s eloquence so he allowed his actions to speak for him once more.

He took Charles’ hand, the one that was tenderly brushing his hair. Using his index finger, he traced a loop around Charles’ ring finger and the telepath spread out the rest of fingers so Erik could complete the circle. The motion produced a faint metallic sound from afar and latched onto the exposed skin. Charles’ breath hitched as he let out a nervous chuckle.

Following his cue, Charles took Erik’s hand and looped his own index finger around the ring finger of his lover and friend, infusing it with a telepathic link of his fondest memory from his childhood; the last Christmas he ever spent with his father before he passed away. He framed that splintered vision across Erik’s mind as bravely and as long as he could, and then they watched it fade away once Charles completed the circle.

_How strange for him to love me this honest and deep_ , Erik thought, _when there was a man who broke his heart before_.

After Charles shared that memory with him, Erik knew no other way to appease his anguish but to kiss his cheek. A tear made its way down from Charles’ eye, and Erik prolonged the contact of his lips to catch the drop.

 

***

Erik vowed that day not to become just another scar in Charles’ life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to make this too emotional and sad but...I did, so....yeah. 
> 
> Hope you guys are enjoying this so far :)


	6. Attempt

 

 

> **ATTEMPT**
> 
> An act of trying to achieve something, typically one that is unsuccessful or not certain to succeed

 

**A month ago**

 

It rained ceaselessly on the very first night of their travel together. This was just after the two of them stopped by a bakery in a small American town whose name Erik didn’t even bother remembering. From there Charles Xavier bought an entire chocolate cake enclosed in a pink box, and Erik held the door for him as he allowed Xavier to step out first.

“Oh, thank you, my friend.” The telepath had smiled at him with a grating sincerity. His blue eyes regarded Erik with casual affection that _burned_.

Erik tried not to flinch away visibly.

 _I am not your friend_ , he wanted to declare but found himself unable to speak up, not when Xavier is still smiling that smile.

It had only been the first night alone with him, but Erik was already becoming more uncomfortable with the way Xavier addresses and treats him. He thought it was merely due to his upbringing as the perfect English gentleman professor, and yet underneath that veneer of courteousness and glib charm is something else that Erik couldn’t put together and it frustrated him. There was lightness to Charles Xavier that almost _offended_ him. Erik decided then that he had never disliked a man like he did Xavier, with his readily given compliments (about his mutation he described as ‘groovy’ twice today) and his offhanded utterances of gratitude over the most simplistic of things, such as, case in point, holding the fucking door for him.

 _Not every gesture is meaningful,_ Erik thought to himself as he watched Xavier go. He waited for a few heartbeats just to be sure that the telepath was far enough from him before Erik even stepped out of the bakery.

And that was when the rain began to pour.

Agile as ever, Erik managed to grab Xavier by the wrist so the two of them could step right back under the roof of the bakery’s entrance. But the abruptness of the action caught the telepath unprepared which was why he sort of crashed into Erik. His forehead made contact with Erik’s chin before Xavier drew back. Nervously, he muttered, “Oh dear…” and then he chuckled.

The unwanted nearness of the other man instantly made Erik let his wrist go. To his credit, Xavier took a step back to establish the proper distance between them. “I’m sorry,” the telepath didn’t miss a beat and apologized.

“No,” Erik was annoyed that he did. “I was the one who pulled you.”

“Yes,” Xavier cocked an eyebrow as he adjusted himself and shifted the pink box he was clasping from one hand to the other. “Why did you? You could have warned me about the rain and then just tell me to take shelter.”

_Why did you jump from the ship and save me from drowning?_

Erik didn’t know why he even thought about that so he pushed the accusatory thought away, afraid that the telepath might listen in but Xavier merely added. “But then again, you’ve always been a man of few words and much more inclined to take action.” He then smiled that smile again.

And that was when Erik spoke up in turn. “Stop saying things as if you know me.” He hoped the phrase landed like a slap to the face.

Still, Erik realized that it sounded far too defensive than he liked but he refused to take it back. In haste, he decided to turn away from the other man and walk off to the cold and oppressive rain before Xavier could say anything else. For good measure, Erik looked back at him. The telepath just stood there, gazing at him with an expression he could hardly make out because of the rain.

“You don’t know everything,” Erik claimed but something about the way Xavier took a step closer told him that the telepath challenged otherwise.

But Erik didn’t wait for him. He started to walk away.

 

**Two weeks before Cuba**

 

Charles couldn’t believe he shared Erik’s bed last night.

He finally had his first decent sleep in weeks and it was so comforting and safe here under the sheets with his friend that he didn’t feel like ever getting up. Charles leaned on his left side and watched Erik beside him who lay there facing the ceiling with his fingers laced together. He snored softly, almost as if such an involuntary action was also deliberate. Everything about this beautiful man is evenly measured, including his outbursts, no matter how unpredictable he gets. Charles can never get an accurate reading.

And he loves it. He loves Erik. _His_ Erik—all twisted steel and sex appeal...

Charles chuckled then, lightly scolding himself for coming up with such naughty thoughts so early in the morning. He pulled the covers up and tried to sleep again but the proximity of not only Erik’s mind but his body so tangibly near him was only making his head swim with suggestive musings. Charles peeped through the covers and furtively traced a finger on top of Erik’s laced ones. He remembered the vow they’ve shared yesterday, how Erik took his hand and tied a figurative ring around his finger to claim him. He knew Erik liked to possess while Charles only wants to love his loneliness away. And that’s why he tied a ring on Erik’s finger himself, as a promise to never leave him behind. To Charles, it meant _forever_ though most things end.

 _Not today_ , Charles thought as he edged closer to Erik and buried his head on the crook of his friend’s shoulder. He planted a kiss on the side of Erik’s chest and then nuzzled his nose into the fabric of his shirt. And then he started humming a melody his memory could not place as the sound filled the space. Charles placed his hand on top of Erik’s and prayed that the chasm between them would no longer widen. He wanted the broken pieces whole.

“I will mend you,” Charles whispered. He raised his head and his lips hovered below Erik’s neck. He moved his hand to touch the exposed flesh of his friend’s throat. “Oh, Erik…” he murmured. “Beautiful, beautiful Erik…”

“Charles…” Erik finally stirred awake.

As if burned, Charles quickly withdrew his hand from his neck but then he felt the iron grasp of Erik’s hand locking around his wrist and he stopped. He blinked as he saw Erik’s eyelids flutter open and then he turned his face to meet his gaze. Charles smiled and leaned close to catch his lips with his own. The kiss would have landed but then Erik murmured. “I can’t.”

Charles’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry?”

A few seconds passed. Erik just looked at him blankly as if he was in a haze of some sort and he can’t see Charles. The other man was starting to worry. “Darling,” he said softly as he sat up a bit. “What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t know,” Erik’s voice sounded earnest enough but he continued to gaze at Charles as if from a distance. Slowly, his other hand moved to touch the top of Charles’ head, and he began to stroke his hair. His features softened while he did this. “I’m sorry, Charles,” he finally managed to murmur.

“For what?” Charles’ anxiety deepened.

Erik shifted a bit to allow Charles more room to occupy. Picking up easily on that gesture, Charles placed his arm on top of Erik’s chest and leaned in. They stayed silent for a few more minutes, both eyes closed, listening to the rise and fall of their breathing synchronizing with each other.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” Erik repeated the phrase again and there was a strain in his voice that Charles even felt in his gut. Pushing his other hand on the mattress, Charles raised himself up to look at Erik quizzically.

Before the telepath could open his mouth to offer a way to soothe his friend, Erik cupped both his cheeks and stared long and hard. Charles thought (and wished) they were going to kiss but Erik made no attempt to pull him down or lean in himself. “Please, Erik,” he finally found the words. “Please tell me what you’re apologizing for. What do you think you have done?”

“It’s…” Erik paused for a few seconds and then continued. “It’s what I’m about to do and I don’t think it will ever warrant your forgiveness.”

“God, Erik, you’re starting to scare me a bit…”

“I’m…” Erik looked away. He seemed to be staring at the curtains which were beige and nothing special but the heavy intent of his gaze there would suggest otherwise. Charles knew he was avoiding the conversation but he didn’t wish to push it. He knew that sometimes he can’t always make Erik come around but, if he waited long enough, his patience is guaranteed to be rewarded. So the telepath just adjusted his position so he could sit beside Erik instead, but he kept the hand on Erik’s shoulder in place.

Another whole minute passed before Erik turned to him to speak. “Charles,” he began. “In two weeks time, I’m going to find Shaw and kill him.”

Charles tried not to visibly flinch. The subject has always been a sore spot for the both of them. He weighed his words carefully as he spoke them. “I’ve already told you my opinion on the matter.”

“And I’m telling you that I don’t need peace.”

“Even after everything?” Charles moved his hand from the shoulder to cup his friend’s cheek this time. “Not even for our future?”

“ _Our_ future?” Erik blinked at him and the expression on his face hardened. “ _My_ past has a long reach and I don’t think it would ever be possible to move forward unless I burn the last bridge.”

“And killing Shaw will grant you that absolution?” Charles tried not to argue but Erik looked determined to justify himself again.

“Certainly,” Erik finally sat up. “His death by my hand is non-negotiable.” He took a deep breath and then answered. “You can’t win this argument, Charles. I’m going to get my hands on Shaw and snap him like a twig. That is the only way you and I—the children, the world—will have a chance of a future; a future bereft of Sebastian Shaw.”

“I’m not trying to win an argument.” Charles countered. He stood up just inches out of the bed but immediately regretted it when he saw the look of sudden apprehension on Erik’s face the moment he left his side. Charles held his ground, however. “I’m just trying to protect you from doing something which can ultimately destroy what goodness you have left.”

“Pain and anger,” Erik’s voice was so low as if he was only addressing himself. “I was Frankenstein’s monster and those are my functions.”

“And I’ve told you,” Charles sat back down on the bed to take both his friend’s hands. “You are so much _more_.” He kissed Erik’s hands now and murmured into them, “I’ve shown you, haven’t I? I’ve shown you…”

 _…that you are made to be loved, not to be consumed by your hatred,_ he whispered the words as Charles, gently as he could, melded minds with his friend again. But Erik tore his hands away and glared at Charles.

“Stop that!” he hissed. “You know what happened the last time!”

“I’m…” Charles swallowed a painful lump in his throat. He could feel his eyes water so he stood up again, his back turned from Erik. “I’m so sorry.”

“Charles—”

The telepath looked at Erik again. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. I feel like we’re going in circles like mad dogs trying to chew our tails off. Just look outside, Erik.” He walked towards the window and slid his hand inside the curtains to lift them and allow the sunlight passage. “The weather is relatively warmer than yesterday. Raven loves to run around the pastures at this time of day when we were kids. And now she has friends to join her. I’m a morning person, do you know?” He glanced back at Erik and smiled. “Everything that the sun would touch looks brand new, teeming with warmth and invitation…” he trailed off, staring at his friend and lover with renewed affection and hope. “The darkness always holds secrets but the light is composed of promises—” Charles walked back to the bed and run his fingers through Erik’s hair. “…promises I very much intend to keep with you.”

Erik’s face relaxed at last. The rough contours began to subside as he placed a hand on top of Charles’ and gazed back at him.

Another minute passed before Erik spoke up again.

“Make love to me…”

A pause.

“Oh,” was all that Charles could say. He gulped down hard.

Erik looked more shocked from uttering that. He moved away and tried to get up but then Charles put a hand on his other shoulder as he settled back into the bed, sitting across him.

“It’s quite all right,” Charles offered to explain. “We’ve been swirling in the seas of our tangled feelings, Erik. And we’ve been expressing them rather strongly through physical means. I suppose…it’s normal to crave for something more…intimate.”

“I—” Erik could only respond.

“It’s okay,” Charles repeated, trying to soothe him. “We could learn together. We do it slow…” he demonstrated by pressing their lips together but not deepening the contact just yet. He withdrew after a few seconds to say, “I am terrified and nervous for the way things continue to escalate between us. But I trust you, and I long to explore whatever more treasures you could offer me with your magnificent mind. The uniqueness of you, Erik, is—”

“Your poetry should make me throw up or something, you know,” Erik smirked as he looked into Charles’ eyes. “But you’re _you_ and you want me…” he intertwined their fingers together. “And I want to know you—”

Erik adjusted his position so he could move on top of Charles. He kept looking into the telepath’s eyes and saw Charles’ cheeks flushed bright red in what he hoped was due to anticipation and lust. Gently, but with a precise decisiveness, Erik pushed Charles back into the sheets and lay on top of him. Charles’ expression was contemplative beneath him, and there was a small smile on his lips as if to tease him to go further. Erik pressed himself against the telepath and the color of Charles’ cheek now matches that of his lips.

Pinned on top of the other man’s weight, Charles could only bite down a whimper as Erik began to roll his hips forward and then back. And forward once again. And then back. The familiar motion, as well as the way their pelvises met each other, was enough friction to get them both hard.

“Darling, _please_ ,” Charles cooed, his smile almost fiendish. With their hands still intertwined, Charles used his free hand to grip Erik’s waist through the sheets as he grinded back with the same languid rhythm. “It’s such a puzzling thing we haven’t even tried this before…all those extended trips to search for recruits, all the nights we both stayed up late to play chess here in the mansion…” he chuckled and tightened his clutch around Erik’s hand and waist. “We were simply looking for excuses to be together and we didn’t even know it. Oh, god, Erik, come here!” He cupped his lover’s face and crushed their mouths together. Erik groaned and began to thrust harder against Charles, pinning him into the mattress with all his weight as he had his way.

They pushed and rubbed against each other for a few more minutes until Erik shoved down a hand so he could spread Charles’ legs and place himself securely between his thighs. Charles wrapped himself around Erik’s torso, relishing their closeness he never dreamed would feel so achingly delicious on his skin, puncturing even through their garments.

“I want to fill you with everything I can give,” Erik’s voice was suddenly hoarse that he had to say the words between moans.

“Oh, I love you,” Charles answered him. “And I will take anything. All of it, darling,” he squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his left leg so he could push back with more fervor as their bodies continue to slam against each other in an almost frenzied dance. “All your sorrow, all your fury—give them all to me and I will diminish them.”

Erik had to laugh. “You are possibly the only person I know who could speak with eloquence during frottage, Charles Xavier…” He grinned through the inexplicable pleasure that seemed to keep multiplying the more their bodies persisted to melt together in united speed and purpose.

“Then make me stop,” Charles chuckled. “Oh, I dare you, Erik…”

“I’m going to make you regret that…”

Erik pulled down the waistband of their pants, allowing themselves to be finally free of their fabric confines. The skin-on-skin contact between their sensitive areas made both of them groan in arousal and surrender. Erik clutched Charles’ outer thighs and rolled his hips further, gaining a new momentum in his thrusts, especially now that their cocks are resting upon each other, already needy and struggling for eventual release.

Charles was surprisingly mute the entire time and at long last. He finally didn’t have the words to paint the picture because the realness of what is happening between them was becoming difficult to verbalize. He simply burrowed his fingers on Erik’s shoulder blades while he bit down a scream.

As they breathlessly raced toward the apex, a very audible crash from somewhere in the mansion followed by a cacophony of shouts and curses cruelly interrupted their heavenly bliss. Both men stopped to look at the door.

 

**A month ago**

 

Erik knew that the Xavier bastard would follow. As effortlessly calm as the other man was, his tenacity becomes ferocious the more Erik pulls away.

“I know enough.”

Erik was yards away from Xavier by now but he heard that very clearly even through the rain. He must have been speaking telepathically again.

“I told you to stay out of my head!” Erik turned around abruptly and saw that Xavier was standing under the rain with him. They were both soaked to the bone, just like the first time when they collided in the sea. He remembered the telepath’s arms pulling him; he remembered the way his mind felt against his. Erik took another step back from Xavier, regarding him with spite and suspicion. In spite of himself, he asked. “What do you want?”

“What we’ve both wanted from the start, Erik.”

He hated the way his name sounded in that bastard’s mouth. Erik straightened himself even if the heavy outpour around them was weighing him down. “What the hell are you talking about?”

But Xavier didn’t answer. He just walked forward and then past Erik. As he walked by, Erik noticed that he took off his coat to wrap it around the cake box. He suddenly felt bad about that. Making up his mind, Erik decided to follow Xavier, maintaining his distance, as they reached a stop where Xavier hailed a cab for them. He allowed Erik to step inside first and the other man didn’t have the strength or the patience to argue with him so he simply got in and didn’t say a word for the rest of the drive.


	7. Accept

 

> **ACCEPT**
> 
> To receive or to take (something offered)

**A month ago**

 

Erik feared for Xavier’s sanity the moment he donned that terrifying Cerebro helmet which Hank reassured them would help amplify his powers so he could locate other mutants across the country. He joked about Xavier being an adorable lab rat, but the truth behind such a remark was humorless. Erik did not dwell on it in fear of suddenly projecting his thoughts in Xavier, especially when he had that ridiculous helmet on.

It worked after a few minutes right after Xavier screamed and Erik almost wanted to yank the helmet away until he saw Xavier grinning in a way he hasn’t witnessed before. He was _enjoying_ it. Whatever surge of power that helmet is producing, Xavier was ecstatic to absorb it and it made Erik very uncomfortable. He had known for a while that Xavier was not as kind and harmless as he makes himself to be around friends and acquaintances but this was the first time Erik found something to validate that. Xavier did enjoy having control over people’s minds. He does relish on his ability to find a passage into a person’s innermost dwellings without permission or worrying about the consequence of such intrusion. And Erik watched that unfold before him now, finally seeing Charles Xavier in a darker hue than the rest.

Xavier looked straight at him this time, and his blue eyes have a wilder tinge that Erik was quick to latch onto with his own gaze. Xavier smiled again, probably because of the surge of electrical currents running through his skull and making him see images from across a variety of projectors. But Erik could tell Xavier can still see him through the haze of the heightened and unmistakable euphoria as his mental prowess converged and diverged in a simultaneous symphony. He offered a look of invitation which Erik refused presently. It felt too intimate, and personal space is something he needed to keep secure every time he’s in the presence of this telepath.

When it was all over and they managed to collect enough names to track down so they can encourage them to join their cause, Erik approached Xavier and asked to speak to him in the corner while the Hank and Raven were walking out. It was clear that Xavier was still recovering from the adrenaline rush and sensory pleasure he received from the Cerebro which only made Erik more worried if not slightly irritated.

“We should head out soon,” Erik began to explain. “The locations are far away from each other and we don’t have that much time to spare.”

“My friend, we always have time,” Xavier didn’t sound like he was a part of this conversation at all. He was miles away, still reeling from what he had undergone. Erik was getting even more annoyed.

“Snap out of it, would you, Xavier?” He grabbed the other man’s arm and squeezed warningly. “You’re all over the place.”

Xavier looked at him now, a faint smile still creeping in. It made his usually soft blue eyes intense and alert all of a sudden. “Am I? Can you tell? It’s funny how that expression is only figurative when it can be quite literal. Here, allow me.” Xavier reached out, probably to graze a finger on Erik’s cheek which the other man immediately ducked away from. He kept a firm hold on Xavier’s arm, however. He burrowed his fingernails on skin, trying to dissuade him from further physical contact on his end. Xavier only chuckled.

“You’re always tense, Erik.” Xavier remarked. “And I’ve been in your head. There are spikes in your mind, did you know? I’d often cut myself.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re bleeding.” Erik replied, his voice hoarse from unexpected exhaustion. “It serves you right for being a damn voyeur.”

Xavier blinked at his words. “I just want to show you what I saw when I had the Cerebro on. The lights and sounds. Others like us, seeking solace, reaching for the nearest source of serenity and peace of mind…” His other hand was moving toward Erik again but this time Erik waited for it to make contact. It landed on his shoulder, his fingers splayed there rather awkwardly but with unmistakable tenderness. Xavier closed his eyes and breathed in. Erik watched the calm expression on the telepath’s face and wondered why it was making his stomach hurt a bit.

“You are not the easiest of men to get along with, my friend,” Xavier continued to speak. “But it seems to me that the more you insist on shutting me out,” he opened those blue eyes and stared into Erik’s. “The more you actually want to let me in. So here,” the hand on his shoulder moved down and rested on his chest. “Feel the world quake around us while I show you the rest it has to offer through the eyes of other mutants who long for some sort of connection, however faint and solitary it may be…”

Erik opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t think anymore. Xavier was invading the spaces of his consciousness again and before he could resist it, the noises and images flooded his senses with an overwhelming force that would have drowned him if it wasn’t for Xavier carrying him through the violent streams. Erik kept his eyes firmly shut as he slowly stopped struggling from this maddening experience that was essentially grinding and pulling him apart the more he gives into it. There was hardly anything pleasurable about it though. All he felt from those mutants were the same feelings he had held onto all these years; ugly yet comfortable emotions that kept him together like grief and fury, loneliness and desperation.

What exactly did Xavier feel otherwise when he was in their heads if not these things? In the back of his own mind, Erik let out a whimper as if to plead for Xavier to uproot him from the darkness. The telepath heard him and transported him back to their plane of reality in no time.

“Do you understand now, Erik?”

Erik answered as he took a few steps back so he could be ready to walk out of there, disgusted with what just transpired between them. “You take pleasure in other people’s desolation, you sick, psycho fuck!”

Xavier did not move or give any indication that he was shocked by what Erik said. Instead, he replied, “You completely missed the point of that exercise.” He was walking towards Erik now and Erik was prepared to punch him. Xavier anticipated it, of course, so he stopped just ten yards away from the other man. “I wanted to show you that you are not alone, and by that I don’t only mean as a mutant. There are others who share your feelings of loss and inadequacy. Countless of them even, trudging along their pitiful lives, hoping one day someone will break them out of their cages.”

“And you appointed yourself as that, like the narcissistic asshole that you are!” Erik was shouting the words now.

Xavier still didn’t seem to take offense. _You put the spikes there on purpose ever since I slipped in your mind. My very presence, after all, threatens the false security you have cultivated to survive the harshness of every day life. I do not blame you for taking the precaution. Erik, I—_

The mental conversation was cut off as soon as Erik’s fist landed squarely on the telepath’s right cheek, sending him to collapse on the ground.

And even as Xavier picked himself up, there was no trace of anger or aggression in his demeanor and voice. His apology that came after was sincere and well-meant that it was incredibly devastating to hear.

“I shouldn’t have forced you to open up to me like that,” he was saying. “I was wrong to assume that you’re ready to do so just because I have shown you nothing but kindness and understanding. Everyone has a different pace, I get that. I’m truly sorry that I caused you stress, Erik. All I wanted was,” Xavier wiped the blood from his mouth and looked away, almost sheepishly, “to prove that we can be friends, but I mustn’t tame you like you’re merely some wounded animal I picked up from the streets. You’re a person with complicated needs and desires just like everyone else.”

Suddenly, he covered his face with his hands. “I feel very terrible, Erik. Sometimes I forget myself…I forget the strength of my power and what it can do to someone who is unwilling to receive it. I hoped,” he looked up again to meet Erik’s gaze, “I hope I didn’t scratch or dent anything of value inside that precious head of yours, my friend. You’ve been through enough. And I don’t want to be just another scar…” He stepped away now as he buried his hands deep in his pockets. “I, uh, will see you outside then. I’ll pack up for the trip. I suggest you do the same. Time is against us, for that you are right.”

He left Erik standing there in the corner of the room, more baffled than before. Was he wrong to think that Xavier is callous and calculating, seeking to invade people’s thoughts because it gives him a sense of perverted joy? Erik glanced down at his shoes as he contemplated some more.

He remembered the first time their minds melded while they were underwater. Xavier wrapped himself around Erik in a terrifying completeness that drowned out everything else, including the fire in his heart. Erik sighed and started to walk out of the room now, his mind still filled with the event of that fateful night. He had always felt alone his entire life, and Xavier broke into that sorrowful reverie and showed him how wrong he had been.

Erik glanced at the Cerebro one last time, recalling the sensations that coursed through his body and jumbled his nerve endings in haywire earlier. And then he realized that he was wrong to assume that the joy in Xavier’s expression earlier was because he enjoyed the other mutant’s pain and misery. It wasn’t that at all. Sadly, Erik has yet to figure out what it is.

 

 

**The night after**

 

As soon as they got out of the cab and headed inside the hotel, Xavier surprised him when he gestured at the pink box where the sugary abomination was enclosed. They were walking to their rooms with heavy luggage on hand, soaking wet from the rain, and yet Xavier still managed to think about his sweet treat. He even had the audacity to claim that the cake can be consumed between the two of them.

“I’d actually prefer it,” he stated while sheepishly smiling at the other man. “It’s pretty hefty. I can’t finish it all by myself, of course.” For a good measure, he also chuckled, and Erik had never felt more awkward in his entire life. He wasn’t sure how to answer.

So he settled for, “Not a fan of chocolate.”

“Wh _aaa_ t?” Xavier’s shock, and exaggerated syllabicating, surprised Erik.

Erik didn’t bother looking at him as he inserted the key into the lock and turned the knob. He could feel Xavier’s eyes still on him though so he had to glance back. The telepath was blinking at him, chewing on his bottom lip.

“What now?” Erik had to ask.

“Have you ever had chocolate?”

“Yes,” Erik wanted to terminate this conversation. He’s tired and rain-soaked so he has to clean himself first before collapsing on the bed.

“Then you can’t possibly hate it!” Xavier insisted. For effect, he lifted the pink box and gave it a little shake. And then he smiled, _the fucker._

Erik couldn’t help but tighten his mouth into a deep frown. “Good night, Xavier,” he simply said as he opened the door and immediately closed it before the other man had a chance to interrupt him again.

 

*

 

They didn’t start tracking down the names on their list the next day. Instead, _goddamn_ , insufferable Xavier decided that their trip can’t be all business. Speaking of indulging in simple pleasures—

Erik had risen early that day to wake up Xavier from the other room but he found him downstairs at the lobby chatting up a pretty girl as they ate chocolate cake together. Xavier had his legs crossed in front of him with the plate of the said abomination resting on his lap. The girl in question, who looked to be of college age, was a freckled redhead who sat too close to the telepath and was scooping a slice of the cake far too suggestively for comfort. The moment Erik walked in on them, Xavier looked up with a ready smile.

All-chipper, he said, “Good morning, darling.”

Erik opened his mouth and then closed it as quickly, at loss for words.

The redhead grinned at him too.

“This is Erica,” Xavier introduced them. “Erica, this is Erik.”

She giggled now. The sound made Erik want to grab hold onto something _metal_ and throw it at both of them. He stopped himself though.

“Erica and I were just enjoying a luscious slice of chocolate heaven between us,” Xavier, stating the obvious with an uncharacterized smugness, watched Erik with blue eyes that seem to hint that there’s something else going on underneath, and Erik did not like any of it. “And I was just about to tell her that you don’t like chocolate.”

“Wh _aaa_ t?” The girl _fucking_ syllabicated for effect as well.

Erik didn’t want to engage this insanity so he just asked. “When are you going to be finished? The first name on the list works in a near establishment. Shouldn’t we be going there?”

“Ah, of course,” Xavier then turned to his female companion. “Erik and I are about to visit a strip club to look for someone.”

“What exactly is your type, Professor?” the girl practically _cooed_.

“I’m a simple man who wants simple things,” Xavier remarked as he forked another slice and fed it to her in a startling affectionate manner that made the insides of Erik’s cheek _burn_. “I accept all types of women, especially with a name like yours… _E-ri-ca_.” He taps a finger on her cheek as he emphasized each syllable of her name.

 _I am going to kill you_. Erik made sure that sentence was clear and loud enough for the telepath to pick up on. Xavier didn’t look at him but he chuckled low in acknowledgement. He definitely heard it.

“Excuse us, but I believe it’s time for us to go,” Xavier now stood up, holding the plate. The redhead (Erik will never refer to her as anything but) looked very disappointed. She placed her hand inside Xavier’s free arm and slipped something on his shirt pocket. Xavier pressed a chaste kiss on her temple. “I will keep in touch as soon as I’m able, Erica.”

“Goodbye,” Erik looked straight at her, his expression neutral. The redhead just rolled her eyes at him and walked away, swaying her hips, knowing that both men are still watching from behind.

When she was gone, Erik glared at the other man. “You’re unbelievable,” he remarked, almost angrily.

“I needed someone to eat the cake with me, and you were rude enough to refuse that privilege last night, so don’t complain.” Xavier sounded anything but offended. He was smirking and his eyes never looked brighter. Erik suddenly wanted to punch the joy and English _ness_ out of him.

And then he found himself looking at the bruise on the telepath’s cheek and remembered that he already had before.

Instinctively, Erik looked away. “Could we just go and find her now?”

“Not so soon,” Xavier replied as he stared down the empty plate he was holding. And then he looked up with a softer expression on his face as he met Erik’s gaze again. “I want to go somewhere first. Will you join me?”

 

*

 

The two of them have been sitting idly at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, facing the Washington monument while a chessboard lay between them. They had four rounds of game play earlier in the last hour while Erik was distracted by the bruise on Xavier’s cheek where he punched him two days ago. No longer able to keep it to himself, Erik spoke up with a ready apology but then Xavier interrupted.

“I forced your hand,” Xavier said. “I deserved what came after.”

“No, I overreacted,” Erik countered. “I misunderstood. You tried to communicate your intentions and I simply chose to ignore them. I didn’t want to listen to you because you…frankly scare me a lot.”

“Is it solely because of the telepathy?”

“You ask a question you seem to already know the answer to.”

“My friend,” Xavier began. “You are hardly the first person to believe my intentions are impure. After all, how can you trust someone with my ability? You can never be sure if I’m manipulating you into trusting me. So as you can see, I hardly ever get angry anymore when someone doubts my sincerity because it’s completely logical to assume that I’m abusing my powers. Who’s to stop me from doing that anyway?”

“But you don’t do it.” Erik answered. “You could easily do it, but you don’t. I never could understand that.”

Xavier cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why I hold back and allow people to make choices for themselves when I can make them do otherwise? Well, I suppose you can say that I expect more from myself. If I am a more evolved species, then shouldn’t I also put myself in a higher place than others and only use my powers for the betterment of my fellowman?”

Erik tried not to scoff at that but Xavier, obviously, could tell he had doubts about that explanation. “No one is that noble and selfless.”

“No,” Xavier replied. “But we are put in this world to aspire for such things and one day accomplish them, even if it takes a million of trials and errors along the way.” He glanced across the scenery before them. “We are mutants, Erik, and in our genetics lies not only a biology far evolved than the homo sapiens, but also quite possibly the solutions to the failings of mankind. Perhaps our existence means not only progression for survival’s sake, but also the improvement in quality of lives…” he stretched his arms up and breathed in the fresh air around them. “I used to be utterly scared with the burden of my gifts, and some days I still am.” He now looked at Erik, smiling. “But it gets easier for me when I have other mutants who share my vision and values. It lightens the load a bit, knowing someone else is within reach for help.”

Erik just watched him as he spoke, seemingly enchanted and swayed by his speech. He knew that he and Xavier were possibly closer in age but there are times when it feels as if the telepath is oddly older _and_ younger. Right now Xavier was looking at the park across them, his earnest face reflecting the sunlight in a way that’s almost tempting for Erik to paint in a canvass. The other man’s face has always been soft especially around the eyes whose impossible shade of blue made him easy to trust and believe. Erik sighed and stopped gazing at Xavier, annoyed that for once in his life he is beginning to believe in someone he wasn’t even sure he liked having around.

“Is everything all right, Erik?”

“Yes,” was his ready answer, “Everything’s fine.”

When he wouldn’t look at Xavier, the telepath just sat there and Erik knew he was just watching him again. He wasn’t sure if the other man was trying to read his mind again. It hardly seems to matter now. Erik is _tired_ of putting up defenses. He has been tired his entire life, of keeping everyone away out of habit as oppose to necessary self-preservation. Right now the calmness and heat of the midday sun was wearing him down and he didn’t feel like he had to be in control this time. So he lets out another sigh and looks back at the telepath.“I said it’s fine, Charles. Thank you for asking.”

And Xavier smiled. The smile was different though somehow. There was a flush in his cheeks and he blinked quickly as Erik heard him catch his breath as if he was surprised by something. It only occurred to him that he slipped when Xavier edged closer, widening that smile into a full-blown grin, and patted his hand with his. The curious thing is that Erik didn’t even think about withdrawing his own hand away. He let the contact last for several seconds until Xavier was the first one to let go.

Erik looked at Xavier again and the telepath was suddenly serious. He said. “I meant everything I said since we met, my friend.” He leaned close enough to keep Erik’s gaze latched on his. “You’re not alone and you are now a part of something much bigger than yourself.”

“Okay,” Erik found himself muttering in agreement in spite of himself. Could Xavier be controlling him with telepathy? But his answer felt like it was his own, including his next phrase. “Okay, Charles.”

Xavier smiled again and let out a chuckle. “Is it weird for me to say that I think I’m becoming rather fond of you calling me in a first-name basis?”

“Yes,” Erik readily replied, slightly coiling away. “Yes, it is, Xavier.”

“Not fair,” Xavier… _Charles_ laughed. “And here I thought we’ve made progress. I was also beginning to think you stopped denying it too.”

Erik furrowed his brow as he watched the other man gather the pieces of the chessboard so he can place everything back in the pouch.

“What was I denying?” he had to ask.

Charles carried the pouch and tied the strings. He then stood up, already walking two steps down from Erik. For a while he thought Charles didn’t hear his question but then he turned to look at Erik and said:

“That you like me.”

And the fucker laughed and left Erik standing there for a few seconds, eyes wide and uncomprehending, before he himself broke into a grin and ran after Charles. When he reached him, Erik still kept some distance between them, but he stayed beside the telepath as they walked together.

They were both secretly smiling to themselves like idiots as if their newfound nearness tickled them, and Erik, for the first time, didn’t feel like he was stranded on the other side of the world. He wasn’t alone anymore.


	8. Conducive

 

> **CONDUCIVE**
> 
>  
> 
> Making a certain situation or outcome likely or possible

 

 

**Two weeks before Cuba**

 

“Was that Sean?” Charles still asked although he knew the answer for himself. He briefly glimpsed into the teenager’s mind as soon as he _felt_ him crashing on the ground. He could even _taste_ the blood trickling down the boy’s temple. He had been hurt and worse—he’s not waking up.

Charles pushed Erik gently off him as he brought himself up from the sheets to quickly look for his flannel bottoms. Erik shoved them hurriedly into his hands and then started pulling up his own pair of pants. Charles reached the door first and turned the knob, but he didn’t get out just yet. He ran his hands on his crumpled shirt, hoping to straighten some of its wrinkles away. He may have been doing it guiltily because he caught Erik watching him from the corner. He had a small frown on his lips the entire time.

He spoke up, “You look fine, Charles.”

Charles only managed to grunt in reply. He was already out the door and running down the staircase, calling out to Raven first and then Moira.

“Hank, get the medical equipment in that shelf!” he ordered the young scientist. “Get me some fresh towels, Moira! There’s some hot water from the stove in the kitchen. Go, Alex!”

All three of them did as what they were told. Somehow during the commotion, Erik found his way in the living room and was already next to Charles, and he held Sean’s head as delicately as he could with his large hands to allow Charles to kneel down and take a closer look at his injuries.

“What can I do?” Raven was shaking, though not visibly, but Charles knew her long enough to know when she’s rattled.

“The gauze,” Charles replied curtly and Raven helped Hank to unravel some of it. “And that bottle of hydrogen peroxide, please.”

Raven already poured a generous amount of it in one of the towels that Moira had laid down on the coffee table next to the sofa where Sean lay. His breathing was shallow but Charles could feel that it was merely the shock of the fall that rendered him unconscious. He had abrasion on his elbows and a few long scratches on his neck and though there was a lot of blood from the cut he sustained in his head, it didn’t look like there was some serious concussion. Charles applied pressure on it with the peroxide-soaked portion of the towel while Hank busied himself cleaning the rest of the minor wounds with the hot water and some antibiotic cream.

It was Erik who started asking the questions. “What happened? Were you practicing in the dangerous parts of the mansion again?”

 _Again?_ Charles looked up at Raven and his sister instantly looked at her feet as she answered. “It was…it was just a stupid dare, that’s all.”

He would have said something to reprimand her on the spot, but Erik took the reigns completely and addressed Alex this time. “You’re the oldest. You should have been protecting them.”

“I’m sorry, Erik,” Alex replied hotly, his face contorted in a grimace as if his apology might as well have been a confession to a crime. Charles wasn’t looking at him too closely but he can feel the boy’s rage and guilt taking turns messing up with his head. Upon learning this, he turned to acknowledge him.

“Accidents happen,” Charles reassured him. “And now you know better so this will never happen again on your watch. Isn’t that right, Alexander?”

“Yes,” Alex wasn’t looking at any of the adults in the room. His hands were balled into fists as he struggled to keep his composure relaxed. “I promise I’ll be better next time.”

“There shouldn’t be a next time,” Erik countered.

Alex shot him a glare but instantly regretted it. He bowed his head down in solemn respect. “I’m really sorry, Erik.”

“It’s okay, Alex,” it was Moira who answered. She put a hand on his shoulder while she grabbed a hold of Raven’s hand with the other. “I think they can take care of this. Let’s get you both something to calm your nerves. Some tea, maybe?” She glanced hopefully at Charles, as if asking permission.

“Yes,” Charles smiled at her. “Thank you, Moira.”

When the three of them left, Charles frowned at his friend. “He looks up to you, Erik. You shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

“He needed a proper scolding.” Erik retorted. “You would think he’d have learned what structure and suffering are, given his time in prison.”

Hank abruptly looked up from his dutiful dressing of Sean’s elbow wounds as if that comment slapped him in the face.

“Excuse us, Dr. McCoy,” Charles relieved the boy from his position which Hank was more than happy to oblige. Charles noticed that he didn’t dare look at Erik as he walked out.

As soon as the young scientist left, Charles didn’t waste time expressing his displeasure regarding Erik’s negative reinforcement. “You should try to be milder, my friend. I know quite well you are capable of tenderness. Do share some of it with them.” He dabbed a fresh towel in hot water and caressed Sean’s face with the cloth, hoping to rouse him gently from his slumber.

“They’re not children, Charles,” Erik, his stubborn, beautiful _idiot_ , would not step down and admit his failure. It was becoming infuriating now. “They all need to learn that each of them has the immense capacity to inflict pain towards their own kind, and that they must carry the weight of their guilt if it will help keep them in line so ‘accidents’ like this won’t happen again.”

Charles pushed himself off the floor to stand and meet Erik’s gaze. Erik slipped his hands from Sean’s head and straightened his posture even though he remained seated on the edge of the sofa.

“Erik,” Charles began, weighing his name on his mouth like a thinly veiled threat that’s more or less a plead for compromise. “They may not be children but they are, however, _our_ children.”

“ _Our_ children, Charles?” Erik’s tone had a trace of mockery.

“Yes,” Charles wasn’t dissuaded. “We are their family.” He took a step closer to put a hand on Erik’s shoulder. The other man tensed a bit but said nothing so Charles continued, “You are my partner and this is our home.”

They stayed like that for a few seconds. Erik gazed up at him with a neutral expression though his stare had a heaviness to it that Charles recognized before; back when they were just starting to become friends. And then his eyes softened considerably as soon as he placed his hand upon Charles’ which was still on his shoulder. He pulled their hands close to his face so he can lean in and give Charles’ hand a kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyelids closing slightly as if in prayer.

Charles just nodded though he was inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. “It’s okay, Erik. I love you.” As soon as he said it, he withdrew his hand away but, surprisingly enough, Erik still held onto it. Charles blinked at him.

“Why?” Erik asked in all seriousness.

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“Why do you love me?”

Charles opened his mouth but he wasn’t sure what words and explanation the other man seeks so he closed it again.

“Well?” Erik pushed on. He clutched Charles’ hand with more force.

“Erik—”

“Why would you love me, Charles?”

“Wh—oh, for _fuck_ ’s sake, Erik!” Charles snatched his hand away and took a step back. “We’re really going around in circles at this point.”

Erik just stared at him with a scowl. His eyes looked angry and hurt.

“Look,” Charles raised his right hand up. “Didn’t you remember that we made a vow to each other yesterday? We telepathically tied rings around our fingers as a promise we both intend to keep, didn’t we? I know I’m proudly wearing mine.” He took Erik’s right hand. “The invisible knot you have on this finger—” he rubbed the digit in question. “—represents the choice I made. I _chose_ to love _you_. There is no need for any kind of explanation because my feelings for you would never be quantified in words, Erik.”

“Okay,” Erik’s response was shockingly meek and Charles knew something was wrong. He was almost tempted to look inside his head again.

“One step forward and three more steps back,” Charles commented dryly as he let Erik’s hand go. “That’s the way things are with you and me, even after everything.” He put no effort whatsoever in hiding his dismay.

“Charles,” Erik’s voice hardened again. “I said, ‘okay’.”

“What the bloody hell would that mean to me when I know it’s a lie?”

Erik stood up now. He was taller than Charles but the other man had never been intimidated by their height difference. “Why are you being so snappish?” was Erik’s question. Charles wished he had the power to bend metal so he can summon an object made of iron or steel to hit Erik. He cannot believe his own frustration is being belittled like this.

“Erik, stop.” He finally conceded. His anxiety over Sean’s health was more important than this petty argument. He couldn’t even understand why they’re having one. A small part of him wished they could just crawl back into Erik’s bed and hold each other. But that fantasy seems hopelessly impossible now, not when Erik insisted on being a bad-tempered wanker.

“I think I’ll stay here with Sean,” Charles explained. “You join Alex, Hank and Raven for the exercise. I’ll make us some lunch once you’re all finished.”

Erik finally surrendered too. He crossed his arms and then looked at Sean resting on the sofa, and then he nodded. “I’ll talk to Alex again. I’ll explain things better. I’ll be more…” he gritted his teeth. “…tender.”

That earned a small smile from Charles. “Thank you, darling.”

Without warning or preamble, Erik cupped Charles’ face and kissed him. It was direct and very deep, with no false protestations of modesty or concern over who might stumble upon them. Charles couldn’t even react properly but he found that his mouth was pliant enough to accept Erik’s, and he moaned into the kiss in spite of himself. Erik was in complete command the entire time. He buried his fingers at the back of Charles’ head, inhaling everything. Charles squirmed for some leeway but Erik was strong enough to deflect any movement. There was a desperation to his kiss that weakened Charles’ knees.

When Erik did withdraw, the air between them never tasted so sweet of a relief for Charles. They were still inches apart so he looked at Erik’s face through half-lidded eyes and realized that Erik has yet to tell him aloud that he loves him, but the intensity of his kisses was engulfed in that unexpressed sentiment nonetheless, as if he meant to drown Charles with it.

And perhaps he would one day.

 

 

**A month ago**

 

 

His pocket watch had stopped working for good this time. Charles frowned down at it as if it was a child who disappointed him. He then glanced across Erik who busied himself doing push-ups on the floor. He barely perspired which was _amazing_ , like that was a voluntary choice on his part. Charles knew Erik reached the eighty-seventh now. If his watch was working, he would have been timing him, just because it seemed like the only exercise he could permit himself to do. Also, he’s very bored. Watching Erik work out was at least fascinating because his friend’s mind goes very quiet—focused. Charles could just brush across it, knowing Erik wouldn’t even notice; that’s how much the other man devoted all his energy on the physical exertion at hand. He didn’t even care that Charles had just entered the room half an hour ago, and sat by the windowsill with neither invitation nor a greeting, so the telepath amused himself by making a study of the other man. It was when he was about to time him that Charles finally realized that the mechanism of his precious antique was defective, and that it had been for some time.

_For some time…_

_…since he had it on his trousers that night he jumped from the boat to save Erik from drowning._

Charles found himself smiling at the memory, almost forgetting that the pocket watch was a family heirloom, and that he should have it fixed some time tomorrow, if possible.

“Charles?”

He looked up and smiled. Finally, the other man noticed his presence.

Erik was wiping himself with a towel. “Why are you still up?”

“It’s only seven,” Charles countered.

“You usually go to bed early, don’t you?”

“Oh?” Charles inquired now. “The truth is, back in the agency, I’d only lock myself in the room early to read and write by my lonesome. I sleep much later on, which is probably around midnight or so.”

Erik said nothing to that. He was taking off his shirt.

What Charles noticed first was his back which was facing him from where he sat. It was peppered with scars of varying sizes and depth. He tried not to look too closely at the details in fear of unearthing the memories that they were etched with. Charles sometimes can do that, and it won’t even be intentional. The more painful a wound or scar is, the more the memory will surface in Charles’ own thoughts, uninvited though not completely unwelcome. There were a few instances in the past when Charles decided to indulge; to face a person’s darkest memory and experience it second-hand. Being a telepath means having an inborn inquisitiveness, at least on Charles’ part. And yet he respected Erik and his privacy, particularly when it was only earlier today that he finally decided to trust him a little. Charles could still recall the sound of his name on the other man’s mouth. To Erik, that was a huge deal. It was the first step to familiarity, to friendship. He couldn’t just risk fracturing it. So, naturally, Charles had to look away.

“I’m famished,” Erik remarked, still bloody shirtless like he wasn’t aware he was in that state. Charles decided he’s going to have to ignore it too.

“I sure hope so,” The telepath answered as he got up from the windowsill to approach the other man, stopping only when he realized he can’t ignore Erik’ state of undress after all. But he tried again. “You’ve worked up an appetite from what I can tell.”

 _No,_ _Charles, try **harder**_ , he reprimanded himself.

Erik now gestured at his hand where he was clutching the watch. Charles shook his head and buried the watch inside his pocket. “Just an old thing. It’s broken now. Clumsy, clumsy,” he chuckled and added. “I’ll probably have it repaired on our way to meet Ms. Salvador tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Erik looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes at Charles but resisted. “So we’re finally going to start accomplishing the purpose of travelling together in the first place, aren’t we, Xavier? Are you sure you don’t feel like making a quick stop at the beach first before work?”

Charles would’ve rolled his eyes at him himself but was too distracted by the fact that Erik’s back to addressing him with his last name, as if the implication of his inertia wasn’t insulting enough. Calmly and with a smile, he answered Erik, “A relaxing dip in the waters with the sun upon us would be a nice progression that steers away from the last time we were at sea.”

“Yes,” Erik replied, just as calmly. “Maybe this time around you might enjoy a swim as oppose to merely playing lifeguard to a man who almost drowned because he was trying to chase his ghosts underwater.”

To both of their surprise, Erik’s playfully callous remark at his own expense earned a chuckle from either of them. Charles blinked nervously afterwards but Erik wasn’t looking at him anymore as he crossed the other side of the room, “I’m going to take a shower first,” he stopped midway through the bathroom door. He only moved his head to the side as he added. “For your part, maybe you can wear something other than that hideous orange sweater, Professor?”

Charles looked down at his clothing choice. “It’s not hideous.”

“Please,” Erik answered dryly as he stepped inside the bathroom and slowly closed the door so he can add, “They label nuclear products with that same shade of color for a good reason, Charles…” _click_. The door shut completely but not before he was able to hear Erik laugh from the other side.

Embarrassed yet vaguely cheerful that Erik actually made a joke (granted, in his expense), Charles smiled and uttered aloud, “That fucker.”

 

**Two weeks before Cuba**

 

 

Moira turned out to be a wonderful cook which Charles was more than thankful for. He would steal glances across her from the other side of the big kitchen as she hums a tune to herself, stirring that delicious pot of stew she’d been working on for half an hour. Charles tried to recall a time when Sharon Xavier ever cooked and realized what a pointless exercise it was.

“I hope it wouldn’t be offensive if I tell you that you’d make an excellent homemaker,” Charles remarked good-humoredly.

“I’d like to say that I’m relieved that there’s finally a man who can openly appreciate my culinary talents and still manage to be respectful of the fact that I am so much more than a potential housewife—” Moira faced him now as she carried the pot of stew towards the other table. “—but then I remember that I don’t really care either way. I’m not the marrying kind.”

Charles detected a hint of sadness from the last phrase but didn’t push it. He simply watched Moira wipe the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief and then loosen her hair from the tight bun she put on earlier when she began cooking. Her dark brown hair cascaded just below her shoulders. She wore a sleeveless shirt which was at least a size larger than her and further emphasized her lithe frame, making her seem small and vulnerable which Charles thought was ironic. He had seen Moira in action once, and her affinity for firearm is simply a gift by itself. There was nothing vulnerable about this woman…except of course when she uttered the last sentence exchanged between them. Charles picked up on that sadness but didn’t know what to do with it. Usually, when someone expresses their emotions and Charles happens to stumble upon it, he would at least try saying something whether to console or negate. But the situation with Moira right now is tricky. On one hand, he considers her pleasant company, more so when it comes to her genuine concern of the mutant children. She had been open-minded and caring all throughout her stay (and he even listened to her private thoughts every now and then regarding the kids, and he liked what he heard).

On the other hand, they’re still strangers. The friendship between them was borne out of necessity and professional courtesy, and yet Charles deeply desires to be her friend because he admired her tenacity and intelligence. She was probably the very first non-mutant who treated Charles like he was just some normal bloke, though not to condescend him. Moira never questioned him or the children about their powers. She never flinched away or made a sour face every time one of the kids would exhibit their powers in a less than gracious way. In fact, the only time she expressed real anxiety was when Sean got injured earlier. He also recalled the way she took Raven and Alex’s hands as if they were her own younger siblings. That was pretty touching.

Charles realized that his curiosity of this woman is getting out of hand. He didn’t want to inconvenience her with personal questions but he’s just dying to know more about her; where she came from, the life she had when she was younger, why she decided to serve her country as an intelligence spy.

Moira was now looking straight at him with a quizzical look in her face. “You’ve been very quiet, Charles. You’re usually a peppy conversationalist. I swear that some days I want you to just shut up. But now that you’re just standing there, it’s beginning to scare me a little.” She let out a chuckle.

“Sorry,” he quickly replied and walked toward her. He kept his hands inside his pockets. “I’m currently tongue-tied right now.” He measured his next words carefully. “You’ve been nothing but kind to all of us. And here you are, about to share us some of your delicious stew…” slowly, he leaned in towards the direction of the pot between them and inhaled its mouth-watering scent. He returned his gaze on her. “You’re an amazing person, Moira McTaggert, and I don’t think you hear that enough.”

Moira just laughed and brushed him off but he saw that her cheeks have gone considerably pink (which was a lovely shade on her pretty face, if he may so himself—though not aloud).

“You’re a weird one, Charles,” Moira tucked a loose strand of hair to the back of her ear in an absentminded fashion. “And that has little to do with your mutation, okay, which, in your own words, is ‘groovy’, whatever that means…” she grinned at him now.

“I think that term speaks for itself,” he added in mock defence.

“Sure…” Moira just shook her head, still smiling as she prepared the bowls and set them on the table. Charles helped out with the utensils.

After a few minutes, Moira spoke up again. “So Erik was a bit of a dick earlier, no surprise there though. I hope you spoke to him about his attitude. I didn’t like the way he belittled Alex like that especially in front of the others.”

With a sigh, Charles answered her. “He means well.”

“Even the best motivations can produce disastrous actions, Charles.”

Charles looked up at her. Moira was busy with the glasses so she didn’t glance back at him. Her comment irked him somehow but only because he agreed with its truth. “I have talked to him about it. He promised he will make it up to Alexander today. He is training with them as we speak.”

Moira said nothing for a while. When she did, she finally had her entire attention on Charles. “They say that the longer we are with someone we love spending time with and may even have feelings for, the more we become blind-sighted to their faults. These flaws seem insignificant at first until one day we can’t force ourselves to ignore them anymore…”

“Moira,” Sternly, Charles walked over to her and placed his hand on top of hers. “Why do I get this feeling that you are speaking from experience?”

“Maybe,” Moira withdrew her hand slowly from his grasp. “…because I just know better than you. You’re the type who can always look at the bright side, Charles—to a fault, even. And with Erik…” she trailed off, thinking of the next words to say. When she finally found them, she spoke up again. “It seems to me that you want to believe you can heal him from his, I don’t know, ‘inherent brokenness’, then you also hope that he will never become the man you fear he will turn into if you aren’t there to save him.”

Charles opened his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, to disagree with her but realized that he couldn’t.

She just nodded as if his speechlessness made sense to her. She added. “Just guard yourself, Charles, okay? I’ve been with a man like Erik. Well, it sounds unfair to make that kind of comparison,” she let out an exhausted sigh. “What I’m trying to say is that you should never love someone so hard, thinking it’s the only way to make him stay, as if you had any kind of power to change him. Telepath or not, Charles, to love someone is to become powerless. And I’m afraid that loving someone of Erik’s background means that things will never be on your terms, and it will destroy you slowly.”

“Moira—”

“I’ve known before you knew, Charles,” she interjected. “The way you looked at him when you thought no one else was watching…hell, even that night in the ocean after we got him in the ship—you had this…” she held up her hands, as if trying to convey her words with them. “… _liveliness_ to you, as if finding Erik was finding a corner in the world that belongs only to you.”

Charles took a step back from her now. And another. He doesn’t want to talk to her anymore. For an ordinary human being, she’s reading him quite expertly and he’s not sure he enjoys being in the receiving end of such scrutiny. Her words were like scars in his heart and he hoped Erik— _his_ beautiful Erik—is here right now to tell her otherwise.

“Oh god,” Moira’s face softened. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so…”

“I think they’re done,” Charles glanced outside to indicate that he’s not going to hear anything else she has to say. “We should greet them by the door, and help them get sorted out first before lunch.”

Moira knew better than to contradict him at this state. With her shoulders dropping, she simply nodded and turned away from him.


End file.
